Chapter 3

CHAPTER3

Edwin Bolt yawned as his black stallion swayed from side to side, trudging along the country lanes toward the town of Beacon Hill. The hour had grown too late for him to hope to retrieve the special license that night, but he preferred the anonymity of the town inn, despite the uncomfortable bed he had slept in the previous night, to spending an evening in the company of the Swintons.

“She is fair enough,” he muttered, dipping into a habit he had tried to shed since childhood: speaking aloud to himself. “The younger one was a mite too young. Society would have relished that.”

His lip curled, wondering what the scandal sheets might have said about him if he had chosen the younger daughter, as he had intended. Although, he doubted they would have called him an awful name he had not heard a thousand times before.

“Lady Joanna speaks out of turn, though—that might present a problem,” he continued, closing his eyes so he could picture the lady who would soon be his wife. By the end of the week, if he could make the arrangements swiftly enough.

In truth, Lady Joanna was the one who had caught his attention when he had entered the drawing room of Tillington House, though he had not known that she was Joanna and not Nancy, at that moment. She had the willowy figure that he favored, and a height that was neither too short nor too tall; the perfect height for a society ornament, to be paraded in front of the ton. Her figure, her pale complexion, and her ebony hair would complement most fashions and gowns, too, and if he poured enough of his dwindling fortune into a magnificent dress, he trusted that she would be a welcome distraction, softening society’s attitude toward him by celebrating the beauty and grace of his wife.

As long as she does not speak her mind, he noted, for he wanted her to be admired and not a cause of further gossip and ill-repute for him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering if he had been too hasty. Perhaps, he should have insisted on taking the younger daughter as his bride, for she had not said a word throughout their encounter.

“But I cannot abide the weeping ones.” He shuddered, remembering the tears that had reddened Lady Nancy’s eyes and puffed her reasonably pretty face, making it blotchy and unappealing. He shrugged away the image, choosing to think of Lady Joanna’s face instead.

She had shown a strength he had not expected, particularly in the offer she had made to take her sister’s place, and her unusual, green eyes had been defiant; the same color as a cat he had as a boy. He did not know if it was the remembrance of that beloved pet that had made him accept, or the fact that Joanna had offered herself willingly while the other sister wept, but he supposed the exchange could not be altered now. If Joanna proved to be too unruly, then he would just have to educate her in being precisely what he needed her to be, and nothing more.

“She might prove to be charming to other guests at balls and gatherings,” he mused, seeing the opportunity in choosing the more unpredictable sister. “That would certainly benefit me, for if they adore her, they might come to favor me, too.”

He mustered a smile, feeling more hopeful about the coming marriage with every step that his stallion took toward the glowing lights of Beacon Hill that had appeared in the near distance. Like many things in life, perhaps Joanna was the very thing he needed, precisely when he needed it.

“Yes, I think she will suffice very nicely,” he murmured, as his mouth stretched in another, wider yawn.

* * *

“Why did you do that?” Nancy whimpered through wrenching sobs, as she clung tightly to her sister in the wake of the duke’s abrupt departure. “You did not need to do that. Indeed, you should not have done that.”

Joanna smiled into her sister’s shoulder. “Why, were you desperate to marry him?”

“Heavens, no!” Nancy shook in Joanna’s arms. “I would have died, I am quite certain of it, but… I cannot bear the thought of… I could never have asked you to… Oh, Joanna, what will you do?”

“Become a duchess, I expect,” Joanna replied softly. “And you did not have to ask; there is nothing I would not do for you. I have managed Father’s tempers and foibles for four-and-twenty years—I shall have no trouble managing this duke. If I am fortunate, he shall adopt Papa’s immunity to my voice, and I shall forge a new deafness when it comes to my husband’s. We shall enjoy a marriage of silence and discomfort, avoiding one another wherever possible.”

Nancy pulled back, her teary eyes widening in alarm. “But, you will be forced to leave us. You will have to live in a residence far from here. What if he does not allow you to see us? What if he forbids you from seeing your friends? What if he prohibits you from attending society events? What if…” They were all things that the girls’ own father had prevented their mother from doing, but Joanna was not their mother.

“What if all is well?” Joanna said, sounding more confident than she felt.

In truth, she was terrified. All her life, since she had first become aware of the distance and coldness between her mother and father, she had vowed that she would not shrink into a tiny whisper of who she really was, molding herself to fit what her husband demanded in the futile hope that, if she was quiet enough and soft enough and obedient enough, he might someday love her. Her mother had done all of that, losing more of her sparkle year after year, yet her father had never shown anything more than toleration of his wife. No gentleman would make Joanna meek and submissive, nor would she accept philandering in her marriage—not of the one-sided kind, anyway.

If both are free to seek love beyond the marriage because it is only a marriage of convenience, that is a different matter, she mused, her heart breaking for her mother, who had always adored the man she married. Perhaps, if she had been allowed to seek affection elsewhere, Joanna’s mother might have been happy, instead of a nervous shell of a woman who always looked around the room before speaking, in case she annoyed her husband accidentally.

“What if he hurts you?” Nancy’s voice hitched. “He is handsome, yes, but he is such an alarming gentleman. Why, when he looks at you, it is as if a terrible draft has slithered into the room. I have never encountered someone so cold.”

You are perceptive, sister, even without knowing what I do.

Joanna brushed a tear-dampened strand of hair, plastered to Nancy’s cheek, behind the younger woman’s ear. “I can protect myself, dearest Nancy. I learned a great deal, brawling with the boys from the village when I was a child. I have not forgotten how to throw a punch and mean it,” she assured, her heart lurching. “And I shall ask Papa to give Pegasus to me as a wedding gift, so that, if I find I must escape, I can ride swiftly home and hide away where the duke shall never find me.”

Pegasus was a white stallion that had been purchased several years ago for the Marquess to ride, but the beast was headstrong and half-wild, and would not listen to the instruction of Joanna’s father, nor anyone who attempted to control him. Even the stablemaster said that the resplendent creature could never be broken, but when Joanna had gone into the paddock one evening, drawn to the beautiful horse, Pegasus had shocked everyone by lying down beside her.

From that day onward, no one had been able to ride Pegasus except Joanna. The only difficulty was, she had to do so in secret whenever her father went to London, for he had strictly forbidden it. He claimed the creature was too dangerous, but Pegasus had never done anything to make Joanna feel unsafe. Instead, he helped her to feel free, and that was something she suspected she might lack when she journeyed to the duke’s residence.

“Oh, Joanna,” Nancy sighed, pulling her sister into another desperate embrace, for their lives were about to be turned upside down. And if the duke returned with the special license, it would not be long before the women were separated, far sooner than either had anticipated. “Why do you think he wishes to marry so quickly? I cannot fathom that part.”

Joanna had considered the same question since the duke’s departure, but no clear answer would come to her. “I shall have to ask him once I have grown accustomed to his chilling company. I suppose he does not want the fuss of courting and a lengthy engagement and all of the rigmarole that comes with announcements and society’s judgment. Quite sensible, in a way, for the procedures of ordinary marriage can be rather tiresome. I have only observed such rites and rituals from the edge of a ballroom, and I have often felt myself yawning.”

“You always yawn at balls,” Nancy remarked, laughing a little. Just as Joanna had hoped she might.

“Then, perhaps it shall not be such an awful thing if my darling husband decides I am not to be seen in society anymore.” Joanna chuckled but her stomach churned, thinking of all the parts of marriage that polite society did not speak of, yet were rife within her tomes of ancient Greece and Rome.

The duties no one mentions… She shivered, already conjuring excuses that might keep the duke away from her bedchamber. But she could not cease thinking of one other reason why he might wish to be married so urgently: the creation of an heir. Perhaps he was unwell and knew his time was running out. If that were the case, there would be no way to keep him away from her.

Just then, the sound of warring voices snapped her out of her worrisome reverie. Her mother and father were out in the entrance hall, and, for the first time in Joanna’s life, it appeared that her mother was refusing to be meek and silent.

“I brought Joanna into this world, and I will not hand her over to a wretched creature who might take her life because he does not like the way that she folds her napkin at dinner or is irritated by the way she sneezes! There is no smoke without fire, Nicholas, and every last one of my friends and acquaintances sought to warn me of this duke! And that was simply because they thought they saw you speaking with him! You will not do this, Nicholas. You will not give my daughter to that beast. I shall not permit it, even if I must lock her in her chambers and stand guard over the door until this absurdity has passed!”

“Hold your tongue!” Joanna’s father shot back. “You will not speak in such an uncouth manner to me in my home, nor will you decide what is right for our daughters.”

“I have held my tongue long enough,” her mother replied. “Perhaps, if I had held it less, you would not think that you could do such an awful thing without consequence. I do not care a jot if I have a duchess for a daughter, if that is the duke she is paired with. You will not give her to him. He can fetch his special license, but he shall not be marrying my Joanna!”

Joanna and Nancy exchanged a shocked look, for they had never heard their mother speak so defiantly. Indeed, neither of them had ever heard their mother raise her voice at all.

“What are they talking about, Joanna?” Nancy whispered, trembling. “What does Mama mean about being warned?”

Joanna put her finger to her lips to quieten her sister.

“Joanna is four-and-twenty, Fanny!” the Marquess replied sharply. “If she does not wed the Duke of Bruxton, who else will have her? It is your hesitance that has rendered her a spinster. It is because I have heeded your previous requests to wait that she is almost unmarriageable. Do not argue with me any longer, or I shall journey to London within the hour.”

“Very well, go to London!” Joanna’s mother shot back. “See what your mistresses and paramours think of this abhorrent situation. I am certain that they shall agree with me!”

Silence strained out in the entrance hall, so quiet that the sisters could have heard a pin drop. Their mother had stepped too far over the line, and Joanna could not have been prouder. It was certainly time that her father was held accountable for his behavior, but as the silence stretched on, she sensed that her mother’s resolve might be close to buckling.

“You were intending to offer Nancy,” their mother said quietly, most of her bluster gone. “So, do not pretend it is because Joanna is four-and-twenty. Do not pretend that you would not have given Nancy if Joanna had not intervened. You are a coward, Nicholas. You see something shiny that can be of benefit to only you, and you pursue it. You have always been that way. So, do not insult me by saying this is in anyone’s interest but yours.”

The soft thud of footsteps retreated, followed by the creak of the staircase; Joanna’s mother, walking away from the first argument she had engaged in for decades. And though she had fought rather valiantly, it appeared that the battle was over. Thirty years of shrinking herself had left her wedged in a box she could not spring free from, and when it mattered, she could do nothing to protect the one good thing that had come from her marriage: her children. She had made herself too small and too weak to truly fight back.

“Joanna?” Nancy urged. “What did Mama mean about a warning?”

“Just empty rumors, dearest Nancy. Nothing too concerning,” Joanna lied, forcing a smile.

And nothing that matters now. It is done, Joanna knew. My fate is sealed.