Chapter Six

The following Saturday after Lady Serena's debut ball, Rowan, with a heavy heart, summoned his valet, Adrian, to his chambers. He had already selected a crisp but bland black suit, one which more resembled an outfit for mourning than that of a duke calling in on another nobleman. And yet, it seemed the most appropriate suit he could have chosen.

He supposed that, in many ways, he was in mourning. He was in deep sorrow over a choice and a vow he had made with the utmost sincerity, but now realised it would come at the cost of the life he had begun to find solace in since the passing of his father. He didn't regret making his secret vow, not for the reasons for which he had made it. He just wished it didn't now feel like the worst decision he had ever made.

Once his brown hair was combed back regally atop his head, Rowan joined his mother in the dining room. The dowager duchess gave her son a tight smile, which he regarded with nothing more than a curt nod as he took his seat at the head of the table across from her. The servants brought out trays of muffins, fried sausage, kippers, and yogurt.

Rowan's appetite was completely absent. But he made a show of filling his plate with sausage and toast, taking reluctant bites of both as he stared vaguely ahead. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts, and dread, regarding the meeting ahead with the earl of Lindmere, to even feign interest in his food for long.

However, he did not miss the tension and unspoken words hanging between the dowager and him. He knew she was aware that he had disappeared for just under an hour during the ball. But he had chosen not to divulge his reasons for doing so to his mother. And despite her endless aloofness toward him, it was clear to him that she was curious about his affairs.

What would she say if I should tell her what I've done? He wondered with silent sullenness. He was aware that his mother would have wanted some sort of say in his doings. But he also knew that if she were displeased with his choice, she would surely make him miserable with debates and rejections of his plans. And there were enough challenges ahead of him that came with making such a spontaneous decision. It would spark gossip within the ton, as well as raise many questions about his motives. Then, there was the fact that only two people knew of the secret agreement that had been reached. And there was a third who, as far as Rowan knew, was completely unaware of what was to happen.

"Rowan, darling," she said, drawing Rowan's reluctant gaze. To his surprise, her eyes were marginally softer than they had been in months, if not years. Her tone was stilted, but her lips twitched as though trying to form a semblance of a smile. It was as if she sensed his distress, and for a moment he continued holding her gaze. "What are your plans for the day?"

The question was an innocent one. But it was also one that he was not prepared to answer. Or, more specifically, he was not ready for the other questions that would follow if he answered the dowager's question directly.

"I am going to finalise a deal I discussed with a gentleman at the ball last night," he said.

His mother frowned, clearly catching onto the fact that he gave only the vaguest details about the matter.

"Do you have a new business prospect?" she asked. "I would very much like to hear all about it."

Rowan clenched his jaw, masking it by dabbing at his lips with his napkin.

"I will know more after this meeting," he said. He already knew what he needed to know. But he needed to buy some time until he could excuse himself and leave for the Yardley townhouse.

The dowager huffed, clearly growing frustrated at her son's reticence.

"Is it something that you will enjoy?" she asked.

Rowan shrugged. In truth, there was nothing about the arrangement he was heading to solidify that he would enjoy. But he was finished answering his mother's questions. Despite his apprehension about the meeting ahead, he would be relieved to be out from under his mother's scrutinizing, curious eye and in the carriage, away from her probing questions.

When the duchess saw that she would get nothing further from her son, she sighed, tossing her own napkin across her half full plate.

"I feel a megrim coming," she said. "If you'll excuse me." The strength in her voice told Rowan that she was lying. But considering he was evading telling her truth, he could hardly be angry with her. He merely nodded, avoiding her gaze as she marched from the room.

At last, Rowan was alone with his thoughts. And immediately, he wished he wasn't. Now that his mother wasn't there to chastise him for being wasteful, Rowan also left the table. He paused in the first-floor washroom long enough to splash cool water on his face and hands. Then, he headed outside, where the carriage to Yardley Estate waited.

As the wheels of the coach rolled along the cobblestone road, Rowan stared glumly out the window. His secret vow bogged him down like wet sandbags on his soul. He wished more than anything that the circumstances were different, that he could alter the course of the things that were to come and that he could simply remain in the empty shell of what his life had once been. He had existed as an excellent duke, if the ghost of a man, for eight years. Surely, with a little more time and a great deal more solitude, he would eventually find a specter of happiness to project to the world.

However, he knew that despite his reservations and reluctance, he had to honor his word. He had to ensure Lady Serena's well-being, just as he had promised her late mother he would. Despite his grief over his father's passing, he had been wise with his father's investments, hiring his own broker after his father's passing and getting returns as large as fifty thousand pounds on some of his investments.

He had kept his father's connections in wine and spice importation, which comprised the majority of his continually growing fortune. But he had also had great success in the textile industry, and his recent dabbling in technology had earned him an extra five thousand pounds per year. Lady Serena would be well taken care of financially, of that he was certain. But would that be enough to keep her from despising him for forcing her into a marriage with him?

It matters not, he reminded himself as the coach rolled to a stop in front of Earl Yardley's townhouse. The promise to Lady Caroline was to take care of Serena. And take care of her, I shall. Until my dying breath.

With great reluctance, Rowan exited the carriage, making his way to the door of the townhouse. He knocked, waiting anxiously, until the butler answered the door.

"Good day, Your Grace," the man said, smiling politely and bowing. "My name is Nathaniel. Lord Lindmere is expecting you. Please, follow me to his study."

Rowan bowed stiffly in return and nodded.

"Thank you, Nathaniel," he said.

He followed the butler down the halls of the townhouse. Rowan noticed it was more lavishly decorated than many of the other townhouses he had visited. Even his own lacked a bit of imagination by comparison. Rowan guessed that it had required the touch of a dedicated woman to make the home look so welcoming. A woman the likes of Lady Caroline, he imagined. It was clear that she had loved her home. And it was clearer still that her widower husband had loved her, and had thus kept the townhouse the way she had decorated it.

The door to the study was open, and the butler led him inside. He announced Rowan's arrival, then immediately excused himself and closed the door behind him. The earl rose from his desk and bowed to Rowan.

"Thank you for coming, Your Grace," he said, pointing to the chair across from his own. "Please, have a seat. Do you prefer whiskey or brandy?"

Rowan tensely bowed once more, offering a strained but polite smile.

"Whiskey will be fine, my lord," he said as he took his seat.

The earl wordlessly poured them each a drink, then handed one to Rowan. The men took a minute to enjoy their spirits before either of them spoke.

"Lovely day today, is it not?" the earl asked, barely glancing out the window.

Rowan nodded, despite having noticed a few dark clouds blotting the sky on the trip.

"Quite lovely, indeed," he said.

Lord Lindmere nodded, glancing around the room. It was clear that he was nervous. Rowan could understand; his own heart was pounding hard against his ribs.

"I suppose we might as well get straight to it, if that suits you," he said. His words were matter-of-fact, but Rowan recognized the tension in his voice. It was the same tension that had been present the evening before, the same tension Rowan himself felt.

"It suits me perfectly well, my lord," he said.

The earl nodded. He shuffled some papers on his desk, pulling out a small stack. He flipped through them, then handed them to Rowan.

"This is a standard arranged marriage agreement," he said. "I had my attorney draft it for, and go over it with, me. I expect that you will wish to take it to your attorney, and I invite you to do precisely that. There is no time limit, but I imagine we would both like to resolve this matter as quickly as possible."

Rowan shook his head, even before the earl finished speaking.

"That will not be necessary," he said. "I take you at your word. I will simply read it here and now and, if the terms are agreeable, I shall sign right now."

The earl nodded, seeming pleased.

"Excellent," he said, although his tone was anything but. "I like a man who makes swift, prudent decisions."

Rowan nodded, reading through the documents. The agreement was, indeed, standard. Lady Serena's dowry, a sum of 25,000 pounds, five acres of undeveloped forest belonging to Lord Yardley for Rowan to do with as he pleased and a percentage of the earl's current investments, was promised to him upon his signature of the agreement. And in terms of what was expected from him, the earl wished to merge certain future investment opportunities between the two men, especially if the opportunities promised to be especially profitable. Rowan knew there was much profit to be gained with the right investments, especially when men went in together, if they were even a little bit wise about their moves. He looked up at the earl, waiting to see if there was anything he had to say.

As if anticipating Rowan's question, the earl cleared his throat.

"Naturally, I expect that Serena will be cared for in the event that something should happen to you that leads to your disability or death," he said. "That part is detailed in the third to last page. As is…" he paused, as if he was suddenly even more uncomfortable than what he had been previously. "As is the part where I expect Serena to be entitled to a reasonable amount of compensation, should the two of you ever divorce."

Rowan listened, nodding along, knowing that his decision was already made. It had been made before he set foot in the Yardley's home. He was just waiting politely for the earl to finish speaking before he proceeded. He thought about Lady Serena and the life they would share, wondering how she would react to the news of their betrothal and whether she would come to resent him for removing her choice in the matter.

"I understand all these terms," he said. "And I accept them all. If it pleases you, I shall just sign this now and we can consider the matter settled."

The earl smiled, and a shadow of relief colored his strained features.

"That pleases me greatly, Your Grace," he said. "I am delighted that the terms are suitable for you."

Rowan nodded again. Despite the civility and shared understanding of the situation at hand, Rowan couldn't shake the feeling of impending discord and undercurrents that he could not quite understand just then. It was almost enough to make him hesitate, at least long enough to discuss the matter with his family's attorney and have him review the documents after all. But he wanted to get the legal aspect of the arrangement out of the way as quickly as possible, so they could progress to the part of speaking with Lady Serena. The sooner they carried out their arrangement, the better. Rowan signed the papers, handing them back to the earl.

With a resigned sigh, Lord Yardley summoned the butler once more.

"Nathaniel," he said, his voice heavy with the same energy that set Rowan on edge. "Send for Serena. I would like to speak to her at once."

The butler bowed and left the room immediately. Silence fell between the two men as they waited for Lady Serena to arrive. Rowan tried to suppress the fresh anxiety that settled around him. Was he doing the right thing? Or had he just made a terrible, irreversible mistake in the name of keeping a promise that might do more harm than good?