Chapter 16

CHAPTER16

“Oh, this is wonderful news!” Catarina clasped her hands together and practically danced around the room, but Jacob could not share in her joy.

He sat unmoving in a chair in their parlor, staring at the fire that had been lit.

“You shall be wed, and then there shall be children. Oh, this is such good news I cannot stand still.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he whispered in a deadpan tone, though his mother plainly didn’t notice as she continued to dance around the room.

Jacob stared into the fire, thinking much of what his mother was celebrating.

Children.

Jacob had always wanted children. As much as he feared abandoning them, he knew it would make his mother happy too, and he prayed any child would keep his widow company after he was gone. Yet now, the idea of children felt wrong.

He’d agreed to marry Emily, for the Duke of Elbridge and Seth had been right. It was the correct thing to do and avoided the most hurt now, but if he was to do this, he couldn’t run the risk of hurting Emily even more.

If I give her children, what then? Would she grieve me even more?

He was not sure he could do that to her. He’d have to refrain, despite the temptation of taking Emily to bed. He could not leave her pregnant and alone in this world. The unimaginable pain and agony were too much to bear.

Hadn’t such pain practically sent his own mother mad? Even now as she danced, she broke off to rearrange the ornaments on the mantelpiece again.

There was a time when Jacob would have jumped up and halted his mother’s hands, but he did not have the energy for it now. He simply watched his mother’s frantic actions.

“We shall have to make the arrangements, of course,” Catarina said as she moved her attention to the rug in front of the fireplace. She kicked out a corner that had been flicked up, rearranging it. Apparently dissatisfied, she crouched to adjust it with her hands. “Then everything will be sorted out.”

“Yes, Mother. It will be.”

Before they could discuss anymore, there was a tap at the door. The butler entered carrying a silver card tray on which there was a note, addressed to Jacob.

“Thank you.” Jacob smiled at the kindly butler and then waited until his mother was distracted organizing a shelf of books before he broke open the seal.

‘Your Grace, the Duke of Thorne,

I must beg your presence at the Earl of Pratt’s house this afternoon at three o’clock. The Earl has returned from his business, and though I have endeavored to do my best to explain your betrothal to Emily, he is perplexed and wishes to speak to you himself.

If you think Rachel and I are protective of Emily, then be warned. Her father is naturally worse, but I cannot change his mind on this matter. He wishes to speak to you this afternoon, and I judge it to be best, so you can obtain formally obtain his blessing.

Emily will be there, so the three of you can discuss the matter together.

Yours etcetera,

Daniel Warren, the Duke of Elbridge.’

Jacob slowly closed up the letter, knowing he should have been prepared for such an eventuality. The Earl of Pratt had to return sometime, and he would need an explanation for all that had passed.

He will despise me for all of this.

Jacob slipped the letter into his pocket and intended to keep the appointment. There was one line that had burned in his mind from the letter more than any other: Emily will be there.

He had not been able to shake the thought of how she had glared at him and first shouted ‘No!’ when he had declared he would marry her two days ago. She had to despise him, for which he could not blame her. He’d already refused to marry her to her face, crushing her heart, as Seth had pointed out to him. Now what did she think of him?

“Jacob? Is all well?” Catarina reached for his shoulder. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, Mother, everything is fine.” He caught her wrist before she could place a hand on his temple with concern. “Everything is well, and I feel perfectly normal.”

She nodded and forced a rather shaky smile. After a few seconds, it changed to something genuine.

“Good, that is good. Well, I should assist in the preparations for the wedding. Perhaps we should have the ceremony in our church on the estate?”

Jacob paused. It was traditional to have the wedding in the bride’s parish, but for the sake of convenience and time, it would be easier to obtain a date in his own church that sat at the very edge of the estate. If they married by special license, it would make things much simpler indeed.

“Yes, that is probably wise, Mother.”

“Wonderful.” She clasped her hands together again and hurried to the door. “I shall write to the priest at once to make the arrangements…” Her voice faded away as she continued to talk, though Jacob realized she now talked to herself rather than to him at all.

He waited until he heard a door close in the distant recesses of the house. After that, he stood and hastened out of the room. There was something he had to do before he left to go to the Earl of Pratt’s estate. Uncertain why he felt the need to do it so much, he tried not to overthink it.

He climbed two flights of stairs and headed to the long gallery at the top of his house. The room was vast with light pouring in from all directions. On the walls were many paintings, the myriad of faces staring down at Jacob as he walked past them all. Some smiled, some glared, and others wore a distinctly impassive look.

Jacob reached the far end of the room where he located a painting he sometimes avoided, not because he had no liking for the painting, but because he saw too much of himself in it. In the center of the tall canvas, almost lifelike in size, was his father.

He bore the same dark brown hair and similar eyes. Even the bone structure of his face was remarkably similar and his stance. It was as though Jacob stared into a slightly warped mirror.

Staring at his father’s reflection, he sighed deeply, knowing that this painting had been completed just two years before his father passed away.

“What would you think of this mess, I wonder?”

Yet the painting didn’t answer. His father’s face stared impassively back at him.

* * *

Emily quivered in her seat. She held onto Joey, hoping he would offer some distraction. His cooing sounds and the way he periodically wrapped his tiny fingers around her thumb helped, but it was not enough to distract her from her father’s shouts that echoed through the hallway.

Beside her, Bridget clasped her shoulder, showing no sign of moving at all. The only movement she offered was occasionally adjusting Joey’s blanket on Emily’s lap.

“Will he shout all day, do you think?” Emily whispered, glancing at the door.

“Hmm, my answer to such a question shall displease you, I am sure,” Bridget murmured.

They looked at one another, then down at Joey again whose eyes were closing now as he drifted off to sleep.

Rachel and Daniel had been with Edward since the early hours of the morning. He always sought their advice, so being in conference with them for so long was hardly unusual, but his anger and all this shouting were very out of character.

“I hear a horse,” Bridget murmured and stood.

Emily stared down at Joey, not wanting to know who had called on them. She wished to stay hidden in the corners of this house, caring for Joey, and ignoring the reality of what lay beyond the walls of this house. So far, no scandal sheet had arrived that morning, but they were all on edge, fearing what it would say when it did eventually arrive.

A high-pitched sound escaped Bridget’s lips so suddenly that Emily looked around at her.

“What is it?”

Bridget tapped the glass of the window.

“It is the Duke of Thorne. He is here.”

Emily rushed to her feet, taking Joey with her. She bundled the baby into Bridget’s arms who eagerly took him. Roused from his sleep, he complained a little, murmuring soft noises, before closing his eyes again.

Emily put her face to the glass, peering out to see if it was indeed Jacob. He leapt down from his horse and a stable boy ran forward and took the reins of the animal, allowing Jacob to advance toward the house.

He evidently did not notice Emily watching him from the window, for he did not once glance toward her.

Emily hastened from the room, ignoring the cries of Bridget that called her back. She could not be still, not now, and longed to know what was afoot. She barely escaped the room when she bumped straight into Rachel.

“Oh, God’s wounds!” Rachel cried and leaped back, a hand on her heart. “Well, at least you are running to him already.”

“That is not what I am doing—” Emily denied it but was cut off as Rachel took her hand.

“You are requested to talk with our father and your betrothed.”

“I see,” Emily muttered, fearing what her father intended to say to them both.

They passed through the entrance hall, where the front door was opened by the butler, revealing the Duke of Thorne striding inside. He shrugged off his frock coat and hat that were taken by the butler, and his gaze found Emily’s. She froze at that look, staring back at him, though neither of them managed to say a single word to one another.

“This should be interesting,” Rachel murmured, shaking them both out of their staring match. “Your Grace, please follow me to my father’s study.”

He bowed in acknowledgment and fell into step behind the pair of them, walking down the corridor. Emily longed to look back at him, and felt his gaze upon her, as if it burned the back of her neck.

When they reached the study, Rachel didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door for it was opened by Daniel who beckoned them all inside. Rachel deposited Emily in a chair by the fire and offered a warning look. Emily could read what was in that look, knowing her sister’s face so well, without having to ask any questions.

Do not be wild now.

Daniel ushered Jacob into the middle of the room as Edward paced up and down behind his desk, refusing to look at either of them. Daniel and Rachel left hurriedly then, though Rachel hesitated in the doorway and had to be dragged out by her husband.

For a few seconds, there were no sounds in the room beyond Edward’s feet marching up and down on the rug. Emily looked at Jacob who glanced at her, though she found his expression unreadable. She merely hated the way staring at him made her heart flutter in her chest. For all her anger, she liked him still.

“I…” Edward tried to begin. He halted by the desk and leaned upon it with one hand, shaking his head. “There is much I wish to say on this matter, though I hardly know where to begin.”

He jerked his chin upward and his gaze found Emily’s first, his eyes narrowing.

“Do you have an explanation, Emily?”

“Not a good one, Father,” she said with full honesty. He must have sensed the genuineness of her answer, for he nodded, ever so slightly.

“And you?” He addressed Jacob, who hung his head a little.

“I know I have dishonored your family in many ways, my Lord, but I am attempting to repair things now.”

“Repair it?” Edward scoffed, standing back from the desk a little. “I am a man who always told himself that I put my daughters’ state of happiness ahead of their reputations, yet what Daniel and Rachel have just told me is right. Happiness is tied up with reputation in this strange world we live in.”

He walked around his desk and approached Jacob directly. “Did your pursuit of my youngest daughter begin before or after the termination of your betrothal with Bridget?” His question was so sudden and direct that Emily’s jaw dropped, just as Jacob stepped back.

“It was not a conscious decision on my part,” Jacob said, holding her father’s gaze.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when I first met Lady Emily, I did not know she was your daughter,” Jacob said hurriedly. “Yes, I was captivated by her, and yet I had agreed to marry Lady Bridget. When I realized the confusion of what was happening, I was happy for the betrothal with Lady Bridget to come to an end. I certainly would not have made her happy, my Lord.”

“Well at least in one matter I agree with you.” Edward turned his back on Jacob and moved toward Emily. He sat down in the armchair opposite her, leaning forward in his seat. He placed his hands over his mouth and for a minute he said nothing but stared at the floor.

Emily shifted in her seat, waiting for him to say something, anything! She longed to be wild and explain with rushed words much of what had happened, but Rachel’s warning glare stuck with her. Edward did not need to know all of it, and he would simply have disapproved even more if he did.

Thank God no one knows of that night in the orangery.

The mere thought of it had such heat rising to her skin that she wondered why she was sitting so close to the fire.

“Father?” she whispered, urging him to say something.

He lowered his hands from his mouth and raised his head.

“I cannot pretend to be elated with this turn of events,” he spoke solemnly. “Emily, I am in full agreement with Rachel and Daniel. If there was another way to secure your standing now, I would do it, but there is none. I have no choice but to give my blessing to this match. I hope you understand that?”

“I do.” She fidgeted with the skirt of her gown, crumpling it between her fingers until it was creased.

I am doomed to marry a man who cannot love me, who may have merely seduced me in the first place for his own distraction. Maybe that’s what he fears in marrying me? That he will be forced to make his rakish ways even more secretive than before?

She longed to ask him such a question, but he wouldn’t look at her now. He stared past her into the fire, ignoring her, making it seem as if all the closeness that had once been between them had dissipated, as if that evening in the orangery had never happened.

“I cannot pretend to be happy with you, Your Grace,” Edward said fleetingly, lifting his head a little.

“I understand.” Jacob nodded; his hands latched behind his back. “I’m equally disappointed in myself, though I know that offers little comfort now.”

“Yes, you are right on that front.” Edward stood from his seat and moved back toward Jacob, standing before him. “You are committed to the marriage then.”

“I have given my word.”

“Very well. We shall make the arrangements.” Edward stepped away and moved to Emily’s side. He took her shoulder in a protective way, so much so that she glanced up at him in surprise. “It will have to be a special license, Emily. The wedding will be fast indeed.”

“Oh,” she murmured, startled by the words. Rachel’s own wedding had been rushed.

She couldn’t help fearing what her father thought of the pair of them now. Was he disappointed to have two daughters rushed into marriage by an apparent scandal? He probably feared what would happen to Bridget next.

“I can make the preparations for the wedding license,” Jacob said matter-of-factly, his tone so business-like that it was alien to her. His frown seemed heavier than she had ever seen it before, the brow more prominent. “I suggest we use the church on my own estate for the ceremony, as that will make the arrangements much simpler.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Edward agreed, waving a hand at him. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me, Your Grace?”

“One thing more.” Jacob stepped forward; his eyes set on Edward. “I apologize for everything that has happened between us, my Lord, but I will keep my word. I will marry your daughter. I will do right by her.” At last, his eyes flickered down to Emily, and she gasped.

In that second, it would have been easy to persuade herself that he did feel something for her. He was marrying her after all, was he not? Then that look was gone, and she was left feeling bereft and empty.

“Thank you,” Edward nodded. “In some odd way, it is a small comfort now. If you would leave us, I will write to you about the matter of my daughter’s dowry and the other preparations.”

“Of course.” Jacob bowed to the two of them in turn and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Emily found her voice. She was tired of being stifled and stuck in this corner, reluctant to say anything. She stood beside her father, her voice calling Jacob to a stop in the doorway. “When you say you are to obtain a special license, how soon will the wedding be?”

“Soon indeed. Within two weeks.” Jacob parted, leaving Emily reeling as she watched him go.

Two weeks!?