Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

T heodore jumped back from Lady Margaret. His heart was thundering in his chest against his ribcage at the outrage of it all.

“Margaret!” Evelina cried, running forward.

In their tussle and falling against one another, Lady Margaret’s sleeve had become even worse. Her dress was now slipping down, revealing a corner of white stays.

Theodore could have growled under his breath, though he held it back. Lady Margaret was certainly very beautiful. The glimpse of her stays was not what he needed at this moment, He forced his gaze away with effort.

He tore off his tailcoat and threw it at Lady Margaret. She caught it in a kerfuffle, not raising her gaze to meet him as she pulled it on over her shoulders and hid her torn gown from view.

“Scandal, scandal!” Lady Sedgwick cried repeatedly, like a parrot that had learned no other words. “It cannot be kept secret.”

“Wait, Lady Sedgwick, please.” Evelina had whirled around and gripped the lady’s arm to stop her from running out of the room, but she was too late. Lady Sedgwick shrugged her arm out of her grasp.

“There is nothing that can be done, my dear Duchess. Oh, how can such a secret possibly be kept!”

It could be, if you just kept your mouth shut.

Yet Theodore saw no point in saying anything. He stood there, very still, his arms folded as he glowered at Lady Sedgwick and the three young ladies at her elbow. They all looked dutifully terrified and scurried out, as if his gaze had burned them.

My glare always has that effect.

Curiously, it had not had that effect on Lady Margaret. Though he wished it had. If she had left when he had asked her to, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

I could have left. Why didn’t I leave?

“Oh my God!” Evelina cried loudly, kicking the door shut behind her and leaning on it.

“Evelina, please believe me,” Margaret stumbled forward. “It was nothing. My gown broke, I came in here to fix it –”

“She needs no such explanation from you,” Theodore explained coolly. Not seeing the pain of responding vehemently, he returned to the glass of wine he had brought with him into the library and took a gulp. “Gabriel will have told her I am no rake.”

“I thought you had no interest in a connection with any other human.” Evelina’s interested voice made him frown all the more.

“That’s because I don’t,” he assured her. “Least of all your sister.”

“By this light, what are we going to do?” Lady Margaret complained, still wrapping his tailcoat tightly around her. He wished she wouldn’t grip so tightly onto it. It was a rather distracting thing to watch her do.

Do not give way to such thoughts.

He set his eyes on her face instead, noting the fear in her expression. Those green eyes, rather large above pink cheeks, were endearing in their expressiveness. Even if they were now contract in terror.

“Get her out of here and to her chamber,” Theodore ordered swiftly. “I’ll leave at once.”

“What? Already?” Evelina said, laying a hand on her chest.

“Send Gabriel to my carriage if you can. I’ll explain all to him. I’m afraid nothing can be done to stop Lady Sedgwick talking now.” He marched toward the door, intimating with a flick of his hand for Evelina to step out of the way. “She’s quite right. It will probably be in the scandal sheets by tomorrow.”

A groan of frustration left Lady Margaret’s lips. Theodore glanced back at her once, then he swept out of the room, as fast as he could.

Marching down the hallway, he cursed under his breath.

I need to marry. I know that. It’s just… this is not the way I ever thought it would happen.

“This is some jest. Some hoax. It has to be.”

Margaret could not remember seeing her father so angry before. James stood before the fire, his hands shaking around the scandal sheet. Emblazoned in printed black ink across the paper were the words, Ruined Viscount’s Daughter.

It had spared no expense in detailing exactly how Margaret and the Duke of Thornfield were caught together, even describing Margaret’s torn dress.

“Tell me this is not true!” James thundered, turning around and addressing them all.

Margaret flinched in her seat. Behind her, Evelina who had called on them that morning, laid a hand on her shoulder, protectively. Their younger sisters were all gathered around them. Louise had hold of Margaret’s hands, as Penelope and Alexandra clutched onto one another, exchanging worried glances.

“Evelina!” James barked again. He must have startled the maid who was coming to bring them tea, for there was a clatter of crockery in the doorway. The poor maid quickly scuttled away as the housekeeper came to tidy the broken pieces away. “You assured me that this party would be a chance to find a match for Margaret, to see her married at last. Instead… this has happened.”

He waved the scandal sheet in the air. With a dramatic and furious flair, he threw the paper into the fire where it took light, burning in great long yellow flames.

“Her dress came undone,” Evelina said calmly.

Margaret was relieved she was the one doing the talking. She was not convinced she could keep her voice level at that moment.

“It is a dress she has had to wear countless times before. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there is no money left for her to buy a new dress.”

“Don’t you dare blame me for this!” It was as if thunder rocked the walls. His rounded stomach shook as he drew himself up to stand tall.

Margaret looked at the doorway. She saw the housekeeper now run away with the broken pieces of crockery as a footman mopped up the spilled tea. Rather wisely, she thought, they made no intimation about trying to bring tea again.

We are best left alone to our father’s anger.

“She was seen in the company of a man who is thought the devil on this earth.”

“Father,” Evelina said tiredly, gripping Margaret’s shoulder tightly. “He is Gabriel’s friend. He cannot be all bad.”

“You think a man who is spoken of in so ill a fashion will propose to her now?” James threw a hand at Margaret. “You think he would deign to marry a ruined woman? He’s a duke! He can pick any woman he wants.”

“Father, please.” Evelina released her and walked around her, pleading with their father. “Save this ire for an emotion that is better spent. Let us wait and be patient. The Duke of Thornfield may yet prove himself a good man and come to propose.”

The guilt swelled in Margaret even more. For so long, she had told herself that Evelina would not have to continue to pick up the pieces of her broken life, yet it seemed such a resolution was to be frustrated at every turn. Poor Evelina was having to put up with their father yet again.

“At least he’s sober this time,” Louisa whispered beside her, as if reading her thoughts. “This would be even worse if he was drunk.”

“Does it matter?” Alexandra hissed from where she sat on Margaret’s other side. She was practically Margaret’s spitting image, the same green eyes, the same brown hair, only her cheekbones were more like that of Evelina’s. “I have never seen him so angry before.”

“What can be done?” James raged once again. “A nunnery perhaps. Or a cousin’s house, yes, I have a cousin in Cumbria we can send her to.”

“Cumbria!?” Margaret spluttered.

“Is that far?” Penelope asked in a small voice.

“You could say that,” Margaret whispered.

“This is all a bit quick, Father.” Evelina tried to lay a calming hand on James’ arm, but he shrugged it off and began pacing in front of the marble fire. “Let us see what happens today first.”

I must take charge. Evelina cannot always clear up after me.

Margaret loosened her hand from Louisa’s grasp and stood. Her sudden movement drew both Evelina’s and her father’s attention.

“Yes, there is no sense in making a decision about my future now, Father. We must be patient. I do believe that the Duke of Thornfield will make an appearance today.” It was a wild stab in the dark.

She could see Evelina’s jaw drop. Clearly, Evelina knew as well as her that such a possibility was in fact impossible.

“He showed an interest in me,” Margaret said with much more confidence than she felt. “He may yet… propose.”

Evelina looked rather faint as she gripped the mantelpiece to stay standing. Fortunately, James didn’t notice her reaction. He was too busy nodding to himself, pacing up and down again.

“You think so?”

“I do,” she assured him, feeling her gut tighten with the lie.

“Yes, Margaret is right,” Evelina seconded all the same.

“So, we shall wait?” Margaret said. “We shall make no arrangements with a nunnery or our cousin just yet. Yes?”

Reluctantly, James nodded.

“Very well. I must see what I can do to stem the flow of whispers in the meantime.” He marched out of the room, hurrying into the entrance hall.

Margaret and Evelina ran after him, with Lousia, Alexandra and Penelope all running up behind them. James snapped his tailcoat off the hook.

“Evelina, you must do what you can, too. Go to your husband, see what contacts he has with the scandal sheets so that he can suppress this rumor.” James clicked his fingers, ordering her around as if she was a spaniel at his heels.

“Very well.” Evelina turned and embraced Margaret tightly. “You do not believe he will come… do you?” These words were whispered in Margaret’s ear, so that none but her could hear them.

“I’m not so great a fool,” Margaret assured her. “I know he will not come, but I had to buy time.”

Evelina stepped back and nodded. Clearly, she was not going to reveal the truth behind Margaret’s bluff. They had both seen enough the night before to know the truth.

The Duke of Thornfield had left Evelina’s house in a carriage that rode so fast, gravel had been spread everywhere and the carriage had looked in danger of tipping over.

“I’ll send you a note later,” Evelina whispered, before following their father out of the door.

“Father, where are you going?” Margaret called after him uncertainly.

“To talk to what friends I do still have in the city and beg them not to spread the rumors. The gambling house is calling my name, too.”

Margaret exchanged a worried look with Louisa.

“Isn’t that every day this month?” Louisa hissed. “He’ll lose the house if he is not careful!”

“I know.” Margaret nodded quickly. “If I knew of a way to stop him going, I would.”

“If only there was a way,” Penelope seconded, as Alexandra nodded.

James climbed into a carriage and left without a backwards glance or a wave. Evelina in contrast waved many times from her carriage as she was driven away down the street.

Margaret wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring at the road and the empty spaces they had left behind, but in the end, young Penelope came to steer her away.

“Come. The housekeeper has made more tea for us.”

“Yes, tea, that will make everything better.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Alexandra asked, taking Margaret’s other arm as Louisa turned to close the door.

“I wish I did.”

Margaret sat in the window seat, miserably staring out into the street. Darkness had fallen and their father had still not returned from the gambling hall, not that they had expected him to make an appearance.

In the sitting room, Alexandra and Penelope were playing a distracted game of cards, though from what Margaret could hear, they both repeatedly forgot what game they were playing. Clearly, their minds were on other things. Louisa had her head bent over a book and was reading with avid attention that Margaret rather envied.

Candles were lit around the room by the housekeeper.

“My Lady, would you like me to bring you more tea?” the housekeeper asked gently, stopping at Margaret’s side.

“I fear we have had enough tea to drown us all today. We’re certainly all glugging. Perhaps some of father’s port instead?”

Alexandra dropped her handful of cards in alarm and Louisa closed up her book with a sharp snap.

“He’ll be too drunk to know when he returns,” Margaret pointed out. With a mischievous smile, the housekeeper nodded. She returned a few seconds later and poured them all glasses of port before she left.

“Do you hope to forget sorrows in port?” Louisa asked, somewhat knowingly.

“It seems to work for our father. He forgets how close we are to destitution because of port. Maybe it will work for me, too.” She took a small sip, then smiled. “Nope, I still remember.”

Her sisters all smiled rather sadly at her jest.

Margaret reset herself in the window seat, looking out into the darkness, when she suddenly saw movement. Was that a horse? No, it couldn’t be a horse pulling up outside their house so late at night. Perhaps it was just a disturbance in the shadows, but the shadow seemed to part into two. Part of it hurried up to their front door and rang the bell.

They all sat rigid in their seats, exchanging curious glances as they heard murmurs of the housekeeper greeting their guest. A few seconds later, heavy footsteps approached the door of the sitting room.

They stood together as the housekeeper opened the door.

“My ladies,” the housekeeper said formerly, though her querulous voice revealed her nervousness. “The Duke of Thornfield is here to see the Lady Margaret.”

Stepping in behind her was the tall and towering form of the Duke of Thornfield.

This is not possible.

Margaret had been so certain she would never see him again that she just stood there, staring at him in the most unladylike fashion with her lips parted.

“Ahem.” Louisa cleared her throat to get the room’s attention. “Well, Alexandra and Penelope, you two can go to your rooms. I shall sit and read my book to chaperone. I’ll be in that far corner.” She gestured to a very distant corner of the room.

There was sudden activity. The housekeeper led the way out of the room as Penelope hurried out behind her, gripping tightly onto Alexandra’s hand to drag her out, too, though she looked very much as if she was tempted to fight tooth and nail to stay. Louisa retreated into a far corner, completely absorbed with her book.

Margaret didn’t move until the door closed with a firm click, and she flinched.

“Your Grace, what are you –”

“You know very well why I am here.” He walked toward her, his voice deep.

She was angry once again, furious at his good looks and the way her stomach somersaulted as he came so near to her. She decided to keep silent as he stopped beside her, pouring out another glass of port from the carafe which rested on the table beside her.

“You know I have come to propose.”

A sudden fury overtook her. This cold and insolent man clearly expected her to say yes. She wished to throw every insult at him that she could. She wished to rant that she would never want to be married to a man so cold and unfeeling, yet how could she? This was her one chance to save her family’s reputation.

If I do not marry him… then what will become of my younger sisters? What will be their marriage prospects?

She chewed the inside of her mouth to stop her angry rants.

“My father is not here to give his blessing,” she managed to say eventually. He took another sip of port.

“That is good. I am sure he will agree to the match, no matter what. What father will turn down the offer of a duke when his daughter is tossed in scandal?”

Her anger spiked again. She bristled, though she said nothing.

“It is right that I speak to you first, so you understand what this is.” He downed the rest of the port and placed it down on the table, then turned to give her his full attention. “This is a matter of business only, Lady Margaret. It will be a marriage on paper and nothing more. You understand?”

She nodded, but he continued on in his cold tone. “I need a wife to make me look reputable. I do not ask for affection or, God forbid, companionship or love.”

“You have made yourself quite clear,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Good, then I shall leave you.”

“Now, you intend to leave now?” She couldn’t let him leave so quickly. “You have not intimated why you are happy to have a marriage of convenience.”

“Are you asking me why?”

“Yes,” she said plainly.

“I still do not intend to give an answer.” His curt response made her fidget, shifting her weight between her feet.

The swiftness of his proposal made her even more furious, but she bit her tongue, refusing to give way to her ire. Instead, she persisted with more questions.

“Are you truly prepared to tie yourself to me? After my reputation is now scandalized?”

“It is scandalized because you were caught alone with me.”

“And many a duke would run a hundred miles before they bowed down to such social expectation. You are a duke. You could marry any number of ladies. Why pick me?”

“As I said, you were scandalized because of me. It is right I remedy this wrong.”

She blinked. He was taking a certain amount of responsibility for what had happened, even though she knew it had all been mere accident. Was this an act of kindness?

“Besides, it makes the matter easier. I needed a marriage of convenience, and you are the answer to that problem without having to hunt for a bride.”

“Hunt!?” she spluttered.

I take it back. There is no kindness here. He is a man who just wanted any woman who came along.

“Do you intend to take a bride as a mere ornament? Or as a doe for sacrifice?” she asked, trying her best to control her voice and keep it low.

“Neither,” he grunted, though she was not convinced.

His use of the word hunt was telling indeed. She felt very much like a doe at the end of his shotgun, ready for slaughter.

“And this is to be your proposal?”

“It is. I hope you weren’t expecting anything more.” He frowned. “I am no romantic.” She scoffed. “Neither am I a man of many words.”

“I would have taken a man of common decency.”

“I am that, or I wouldn’t be here at all. Remember that.” He stood taller, making it plain without words that this conversation was over.

Her mind raced with more arguments she wished to make, but all the words died on her tongue. She was baffled they had come to this, that she was to be married, and all because of a torn gown.

I am also to be married to a man whose heart appears to be made of stone.

She thought he would turn away and leave at once, but he seemed to second guess himself and angled back to face her, reaching for her hand.

She was so stunned, she did not pull it out of his reach in time. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back. She supposed it was a way to seal the agreement of a marriage, but yet… his lips lingered.

Distracted, she stared a little too long at those aquamarine eyes and the way his lips molded to her skin. She swallowed nervously as his lips brushed her skin softly and he lowered her hand.

Was it supposed to feel like that?

Her stomach fluttered, as if a hundred moths that lived inside had flapped their wings all at once.

“I shall see you in a week. We will be married by special license next Saturday.” Then he left, departing as quickly as he had arrived.

As the front door shut loudly, Margaret turned to face Louisa who had put down her book, her own jaw slack.

“Have you ever met a more heartless man?” Margaret declared, her wish to button her lip failing at last.