Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

" Y our Grace," Augustus Hatcher, Viscount of Pemberton, a man of portly stature and jovial disposition beamed as he stepped forward with an animated smile playing on his lips. He seemed to be in unusually high spirits, barely containing his excitement. "It is an honor to welcome you to Pemberton Hall." There was a hush and buzz in the air at the duke's unannounced but welcome arrival.

Tall and imposing, his very presence commanded immediate attention. Duncan Elkins, Duke of Northwick, was every inch the nobleman, from his impeccably tailored coat to his polished Hessian boots. His dark hair was swept back from his face, accentuating his piercing blue eyes and strong jawline.

Duncan inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. "Lord Hatcher, Lady Hatcher," he acknowledged, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. "The pleasure is mine, Viscount." His gaze shifted to Lucy, lingering for a moment longer than propriety dictated. Seeing her in the daylight, he could see now that she was as fair as a dove to which his chest did a swift kick. Miss Hatcher."

Lucy curtsied. He could swear she was trembling. "Your Grace." Patience and her daughter, Lucy exchanged furtive glances, each woman clearly grappling with her own apprehensions. He did not blame them.

Lady Pemberton's eyes looked clouded with what he presumed to be suspicion with a hint of concern as she regarded him. Lucy, on the other hand, looked to be a conflicting mess. A good judge of character and reader of emotion, he could tell she was feeling a tumult of emotions.

Anger, no doubt. Fear was hard to miss, no matter how hard she tried to brave or hide it. She was shaking like a brittle leaf in the coldest of winters. And there was an aching sadness etched on her face. Guilt arose in his chest, threatening to consume him.

"I have matters of some importance to discuss," Duncan continued. A hush fell over the room.

Lord Pemberton, oblivious to the tension, clapped his hands together in delight. "Of course, of course. Come, we shall make ourselves comfortable."

The duke took a quick glance around the room, no doubt looking down on it and them all. In its glory days, the drawing room of Pemberton Hall, affectionately called the Sable Room, exuded an air of timeless elegance. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and the furnishings, a mix of dark mahogany and plush velvet, spoke of the Hatchers' storied history. Now, the Sable Room stood, a shadow of its past glory.

There were no rich tapestries anymore. The furniture had been eaten down to its skeletons by termites. They did look almost ghastly. And, the once plush velvet had weathered down to the seams unraveling and the hems fraying. It was truly a sorry sight to behold. But the floors gleamed from Lucy's polishing. And the delicate china ornaments her mother treasured seemed to sparkle.

As they settled into the warm but comfortable settee, the atmosphere grew taut. The unspoken questions in her mother's eyes spoke volumes. And Lucy? She was doing a good job of concealing her anxieties.

"Miss Hatcher," he greeted her again, his voice steady and composed. "I apologize for the unannounced visit, but I felt it necessary to speak with you and your family directly."

Lucy curtseyed again, her voice catching in her throat. "Your Grace, thank you for coming."

Duncan stood near the hearth, his presence commanding yet oddly dispassionate. "I shall come straight to the point," he began, his gaze shifting between Augustus and Lucy. "The events of the previous evening have left a mark on us both. I regret that our unfortunate encounter has caused you and your family some distress."

Lucy's eyes closed tightly shut as if she was in pain. She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. "It was an accident, Your Grace. One that I wish had never happened." She kept her face to the ground, not quite meeting his eye. How could she? Humiliation burned through her., no doubt.

Duncan nodded. "I understand. However, the reality is that it did happen, and now we must face the consequences. I seek to rectify this. My intention in coming here is to offer you a solution that might preserve both our reputations." A hush fell over the room, the air heavy with anticipation.

A tumult of emotions washed over her face in less time than it took to blink. How was that even possible? "And what solution do you propose, Your Grace?" She all but whispered. The Viscount of Pemberton leaned forward eagerly, almost like an excited pup, his eyes alight with hope. "Yes, what is it you propose, Your Grace?"

Duncan turned to face Lucy, his gaze steady and unflinching. She preened under the heat of his stare, and if she was uncomfortable, she did not show it. Or tried not to.

"I propose marriage, Miss Hatcher. It is the only way to quell the rumors and restore honor to both our families."

Blast him! Blast him to hell and back! Why did he look so composed? So unperturbed? Of course, unless he was used to it. He was a duke after all. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted. With a man of his station, he no doubt had women flocking after him. She was the victim here, used and discarded like a piece of rag. Resentment bloomed in her chest.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with uncertainty. What could the duke possibly want? The scandal had already marred her prospects, and she dreaded the thought of further humiliation. But it seemed that was exactly what the duke had come to do. Did he really have to mention her…their mistake of the night before? That again, in the presence of her parents?

Lucy's heart thudded painfully as shame washed over her. It was one thing to be ridiculed by society. It was another to watch her parents being reminded of her stupidity. If only the ground could open up and swallow her, maybe everything would be all right again.

His blue eyes pierced through her, keeping her in place. She felt like an errant young girl again, being reprimanded by her governess. Damn him! Why did he have to have such a straight face? Could he not show some emotion on his face like a normal human?

"I propose marriage, Miss Hatcher. It is the only way to quell the rumors and restore honor to both our families."

The room seemed to tilt on its axis, Lucy's breath catching in her throat. She stared at him, unable to mask her shock. Marriage? After the scandal? It seemed inconceivable. The words hung in the air between them, and Lucy's mind raced. She had imagined this, anticipated this, yet hearing it spoken aloud was another matter entirely.

This was it, the opportunity she had been looking for–a good match. He was a duke at that. Attaching herself to his name might not completely erase the scorn she was sure to face. But it would give her and her family some leeway. Getting married to the duke would give her family some shield. And their finances would certainly be better.

And Caroline? Her younger sister would surely get better prospects than her. This marriage would lift the veil of shame from them. and Caroline would have better suitors. Oh, she wished fervently for her sister's success.

Even if neither Lucy nor her older sister, Theodosia, could live the life they wanted, let one of them be able to do so. She did not mind sacrificing her happiness for her sister. She had a year left until she turned eighteen and had her whole life ahead of her. Lucy, on the other hand, was already twenty years of age.

She was almost on her way to spinsterhood, what with the scandal of Theodosia following her everywhere she went. This was a golden opportunity. So why was she not happy about it?

Oh, she knew. She knew very well that she wanted more. She had hoped for a love match all her life, something akin to her parents' union. Lord and Lady Pemberton had weathered it through the good times and the storms, their unfailing love for each other sailing the family through.

The thought of being in a loveless marriage, and with someone so cold made her sick to the bone. She could not do it. It was a huge sacrifice to make. But the image of her mother's tear-streaked face slithered into her mind. And though her father would never voice it out, she knew he nursed a silent disappointment.

She thought of her sister Caroline and the opportunities she would get if she married the duke. And her brother, Stephen. He would have access to things their father would never be able to provide.

And Theodosia? Oh, how could she be so ungrateful? Why could she not see the bigger picture? Theodosia never had such an opportunity. And here she was, overthinking her own good fortune. She could not be selfish. Her family depended on her. She held the key to their future. And she doubted she would get such an opportunity ever again.

The room was silent. Not a sound could be heard. She risked a glance around and saw her father's eyes shine with joy. Her mother sat quietly with a pinched look on her face, holding her breath, as she dared to hope. But Lucy felt a cold dread settle in her chest.

"Your Grace," Augustus began, "we are honored by your proposal. However, I must ask my daughter's opinion on this matter."

The duke's brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "You seek her approval?"

"Indeed," Augustus replied firmly. "In matters of such importance, I believe it is only right."

It was evident he had not anticipated her father seeking Lucy's consent. In the rigid hierarchies of their society, such decisions were often made without the woman's input. But her father had never been that way. He believed in the individuality of people and never failed to seek her mother's advice in all things. It was clear the duke didn't think that was of importance.

Augustus, his face flushed with excitement, glanced at Lucy. "What say you, my dear? This is an unexpected but most fortuitous offer." All eyes turned to Lucy. She had been noticeably silent, but she couldn't avoid it any longer. She had to give an answer. But marriage? Was the duke aware of her family standing? Was he sure about his proposition?

"Do you mean this, Your Grace?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I do," he replied solemnly. "I believe it is the best course of action for both of us. We may not know each other well, but I am confident that with time, we can build a respectful and amicable union." Her heart sank. That was precisely her misgiving. They did not know each other at all, let alone knowing each other well.

But the kiss …no. She did not know him at all. It didn't matter that her body craved for him. It didn't matter that deep down, she knew she had been ruined for anybody else. She had a suspicious feeling that no one would ever match up to the duke. But none of this mattered. She knew not one thing about him.

"My dear, what do you say? Do you accept?" Her father urged. Lucy hesitated, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The duke's proposal felt less like a gesture of honor and more like an inescapable sentence. Oh father, please do not make me do this. But she knew it was futile.

She took a deep breath, meeting the duke's gaze. His expression was inscrutable, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her feel… flattered ? No. That was crazy. She was obviously going mad from the stress of it all. What she felt was trapped.

"Your Grace," Lucy began, her voice steady despite the turmoil within, "I am grateful for your offer. However, I must admit to being surprised, given the circumstances."

A flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps—crossed the duke's face, but it was gone in an instant. "The past is the past, Miss Hatcher. What matters now is our future."

Lucy glanced at her father, who watched her with an encouraging smile. She knew she had little choice. To reject a duke, especially after such a scandal, would be social suicide. She was fortunate to receive such an offer.

She felt her mother's hand squeeze hers. She didn't miss it–a silent but insistent plea–a gentle reminder of the expectations placed upon her. Lucy looked into her mother's eyes, hope and resignation evident there. She understood clearly– this marriage was their only salvation.

Lucy looked into Duncan's eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. She knew she had little choice. Swallowing her despair, she nodded slowly. "I accept, Your Grace," she said softly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue as she lowered her eyes to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

Augustus beamed, his joy palpable as he clapped his hands in delight. "Splendid! Truly splendid! This is truly a blessed day for our family." Blessed indeed, Lucy thought sadly. He moved to shake the duke's hand, but Duncan made no move to reciprocate, his face impassive.

"There shall be no need for that. Formalities can wait until the proper arrangements are made," the duke said in a voice devoid of emotion that made Lucy shiver.

Augustus paused, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air. "Of course, of course. I understand completely." Though momentarily taken aback, he had recovered quickly. "Ah, well, then. We are most pleased."

But Lucy, watching the interaction, felt a fresh wave of resentment. The duke's refusal to engage in such a simple gesture struck her as callous, an affront to her father's genuine goodwill. She sat in stunned silence, his refusal striking her like a physical blow.

The minutes that followed were a blur, filled with the mundane details of their impending union. Lucy's thoughts drifted in a fog of despair. The future seemed a bleak, unending path of duty and regret. She knew she had no choice, her family's honor was now bound inexorably to this marriage. But as she looked at Duncan, his face a mask of detachment, she could not help but feel a deep, abiding sorrow for the life she had lost to a moment of indiscretion.

Her mind drifted to the future. What kind of life awaited her as the Duchess of Northwick? She envisioned a cold, loveless existence, overshadowed by a husband who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his social machinations. The very thought filled her with a sense of loathing—not just for Duncan, but for herself, for having allowed herself to be caught in this snare.

Her mother's gentle squeeze on her hand brought her back to the present. Patience's eyes, filled with unspoken concern, met hers, and Lucy forced a faint smile. There was no escaping it now; she was bound by duty and circumstance, her fate sealed by the very scandal she had sought to avoid.

"I shall make the necessary arrangements as soon as possible."

That did it. Lucy had had enough. She needed some air. "Your Grace, Papa, Mama, do excuse me. I shall be back in a moment." And without waiting for a response, she fled the Sable Room. Augustus watched her go, his enthusiasm undimmed.

She burst into her room, chest heaving and eyes burning with tears she had been holding back, and threw herself on her bed. She was just about to give in to despair and frustration and let it all out when she heard someone come in.

"Oh, my dearest Lucy," a soft voice near-whispered. Lucy whirled around, her heart lighting up a little.

"Caroline!" she cried, launching herself into her sister's embrace. "Oh Caroline, I am losing my mind. Everything has gone to ashes!" Lucy wept bitterly, clinging on to her sister for dear life as Caroline patted her back soothingly.

"Dry your tears and talk to me, sister. Whatever is the matter? And what is going on? You, Mama and Papa, and the gentleman have been in the Sable Room for a while now."

"He is no gentleman!" Lucy breathed furiously. "No gentleman of proper breeding would behave in the manner he did."

"Why do you say so?" Caroline furrowed her brows, confusion marring her pretty features.

Lucy wiped her face, anger fast overcoming her sadness. "Do you know that Papa offered his hand—in good faith, mind you—for naught but a simple handshake, only to be met with such haughty indifference."

"What?" Caroline gasped. "Does the gentleman know who Papa is? Does he know he is Lord Augustus Hatcher, the Viscount of Pemberton?"

"Does he care? He is the Duke of Northwick. No doubt, he sees everyone as peasants below him."

"Oh my. That must have been embarrassing."

"Scornful! Derisive, it was. How dare he?" The scene played out again in slow motion in her mind, her father's hand extended, his face alight with genuine pleasure, and then Duncan's cold, dismissive step back, his expression as impassive as stone.

"Did not the duke say anything? Mayhap an acknowledgment of some sort." A perplexed Caroline queried. Of course, her younger sister by three years had more common sense, decency, and manners than the so-called duke.

"Oh, he said something all right. There shall be no need for that. That was all he said." Lucy forced herself to remain calm.

Caroline's eyes bulged. "This is worse than I thought."

There shall be no need for that indeed.

The words echoed in Lucy's mind, each one a sharp, stinging rebuke. She remembered her father, his momentary confusion quickly masked by his unflagging optimism. How easily he brushed it off. But she saw it for what it was—an insult, a deliberate slight. Why, Lucy was surprised in the least. If he could treat his own mother with disdain, why would he not her father as well?

"But why is he here?"

Lucy clenched her hands in her lap, nails biting into her palms as she struggled to conceal her trembling fingers. She could not tell her sister everything. Caroline still had ears too young for such news.

"He—he came to propose a union," Lucy stammered. It was still the truth. She would tell her that much. She risked a glance at Caroline, afraid that her eyes would give her away. But the overwhelming sadness in them fueled the guilt in her. "What is the matter, Caroline?"

"Do you still think of me as a child, Lucy? Why would you conceal such important news from me? Am I not your sister?"

"What do you mean?" Lucy's voice trembled. It could only mean one thing—Caroline knew. Oh, dear God. Her little sister knew. This was more shame than she could bear.

"I know what happened, Lucy. I stood outside the door, and I heard everything."

"Oh, Caroline," Lucy collapsed on her bed and wept. "I am so sorry. I didn't want you to know about such. I wanted to protect you from it all."

"You can't always shield me from everything."

"I can and I will!" Lucy brushed the tears from her cheeks furiously as she took Caroline's palms in her shaky ones. "You are my little sister, and I will do whatever it takes to protect you."

"I understand, Lucy, and I love you for it. But we are all we've got. Theodosia—" Lucy inhaled a sharp breath as Caroline's face dropped. The subject of their older sister was never an easy topic. "All we have is each other. Please, do not hide anything from me. You do not need to."

Lucy struggled to contain her emotions. When had her younger sister become so wise? "How did you grow up so fast?" Caroline only smiled; a sad one that didn't reach her eyes. "I am so sorry."

"It is all right now. But what are you going to do? Will you accept the duke's proposal?"

"Do I have a choice? There is no better option now, is there?" Lucy sighed.

"But such an ill-mannered fellow."

"Ill-mannered does him no justice. His arrogance is insufferable. His actions are a clear indication of how little he regards our family. He has made it clear how he feels about us." This marriage, a supposed act of honor, now felt more like a transaction, a consolidation of power.

"What can we do? He is a duke, after all," Caroline soothed. Of course, her sister was the voice of reason. Perhaps, if Caroline had gone with them to the soiree, she would not be in this situation.

It does not matter what position one holds. It costs nothing to be kind. He only seeks to show his power, to show that he can do as he pleases." To show that he owns me now. Her heart dropped. Oh, dear God, what had she done agreeing to marry such a person?

"What sort of man refuses a handshake from the father of his intended bride?" Caroline opened her mouth to speak but Lucy continued. "I'll tell you what; a man without common decency," she continued bitterly. "A man who sees himself above the simple courtesies that bind society together." Her anger simmered beneath the surface, mingling with her despair and deepening her sense of hopelessness.

"Do not think that way, Lucy. I do not like it when you are sad."

"I can't help it, sister. This is supposed to be a good thing. We will be protected. You and Stephen will have a better chance at life. We shall no longer be at the mercy of the ton. And I shall not be shamed. But why does it feel like I have signed a deal with the devil?"

Lucy's shoulders drooped. She could not shake the bitterness that clung to her heart. In her mind, the duke's refusal to shake her father's hand became a symbol of everything that was wrong with this arrangement. It was a reminder of her own powerlessness, her inability to change the course of her life.

"Oh my!" her mother cried as she burst into the room. Lucy hastily dried her eyes. She would rather die than give her mother more cause to worry. "How lucky we are. A fine match it is, Lucy, my dear! A duke! Imagine that!"

"It is, Mama."

She felt the back of her neck prickling and knew that Caroline was boring holes in the back of her head with her eyes.

"Lucy?" Caroline's voice was small but sharp.

Please, Caroline, let this go, Lucy begged with her eyes as she turned to face her sister. "Yes, Caroline?"

"Won't you say something? Because if you do not, I will."

Their mother frowned, sensing the unease between both sisters. "What is the matter with you girls?"

"Lucy is not sure about this union."

"What?" Lady Patience Hatcher gasped in surprise. "But this is such a good match. And an honorable man at the core, taking responsibility for his actions. Oh, you will be protected, Lucy. Tell me, is this how you truly feel?"

"No, Mama, I am most happy. This is the best we can get."

"Are you sure, Lucy? You can talk to me."

"Yes, I am, Mama." Lucy beseeched her sister with a pleading look. If this was to be her fate, then so be it. She would gladly do anything to save her family. But Lucy only felt a growing sense of unease. She turned to her mother, who held her hand. "Mama, he was so cold."

Patience patted her hand reassuringly. "Do not fret, my dear. A man of his station must maintain a certain decorum. You shall see, in time, he will show you the warmth and affection you deserve."

Lucy forced a smile, but doubts lingered in her mind. She could not shake the feeling that her life was about to change in ways she had never imagined—and not all for the better. The arrangements had been finalized and Lucy had resigned herself to a fate she had neither sought nor desired.

Lucy felt a strange sense of calm wash over her. The decision had been made, and there was no turning back. Her path had been set. She would become the Duchess of Northwick. She could only hope that, as her mother had said, love would find its way to her in the most unexpected of places.

But she knew, oh, she knew, that it was only a futile hope.