Chapter Eight

"Where were you?" the dowager said as Rowan fumbled his way past the parlor. It was well past dark, and he had left the earl's townhouse hours ago. But he had not been able to settle his nerves after Lord Yardley and he had broken the news of the marriage to Lady Serena. He had chosen to stop by a seedy pub instead of the gentleman's club, White's of which he was a member, before going home after the uncomfortable meeting. He had only sipped his drinks throughout the afternoon and evening. But he could already feel the beginnings of a headache beginning behind his eyes.

"I had a meeting," he said, trying to be careful not to slur his words.

The duchess rose from where she had been doing needlepoint, approaching the doorway and scrutinizing her son.

"Was that meeting, perhaps, with a winery?" she asked. Her tone carried no malice. But the question was not a genuine one, and Rowan was in no mood for judgment.

"I went for a drink after the meeting," he said, backing away from the parlor doorway with the intention of going to his chambers without another word. But his mother reached out and grabbed his shoulder, staring intently at him.

"We do not need you out behaving like a scoundrel in public, Rowan," she said. "Has this family not been through enough?"

Rowan had had no intention of telling his mother about the arranged marriage, at least until he had procured the license. But the implication that he had been out sullying their family name was more than he could take.

"A man deserves a drink after he secures a marriage to a woman he does not love," he snapped.

The dowager's mouth fell open and she stared at her son for a long moment.

"Marriage?" she echoed, shaking her head in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

Rowan rolled his eyes, rubbing his temple to try to quell the increasing ache.

"Lord Yardley and I came to an agreement regarding Lady Serena's hand in marriage today," he said. "We are to be married as quickly as possible, by special license."

His mother stared at him thoughtfully, her expression blank. Rowan had expected confusion or even anger. But when she spoke, she surprised him.

"I suppose you could have done far worse than the season's diamond," she said, sounding almost pleased. "Why did you not tell me of your plans to make this arrangement?"

Rowan shrugged, wishing for nothing more than to be away from his mother and in his bed.

"It is not as though we talk much these days," he said, more bitterly than he intended.

The sharpness of his tone had its intended effect, however. The dowager, looking wounded and offended, stepped aside, allowing Rowan to pass. He ignored the guilt he felt at the hurt in her eyes as he stumbled through the grand hall and up the stairs to his bedchambers. He was in no mood to pacify her injured feelings. He was doing well enough to nurse his raw nerves. Exhausted and stressed, he collapsed on his bed. He thought that even with the alcohol in his body, he would struggle to sleep. However, his eyes drooped as soon as his head hit the pillow, and a moment later, he was fast asleep.

***

Two days later, Rowan sat at his study desk, once more staring down at a life-altering piece of paper. This time, however, it was the special license he had agreed to obtain. He knew he had initiated the marriage offer to begin with, therefore setting his own life on the path that now lay before him. But that fact didn't keep the impending marriage from crushing down on him. In a mere three days, he would be married to Lady Serena. And despite it being his idea, he couldn't help the sense of loss of his free will and the life he had always known.

Since returning from the club the night that Lady Serena had been made aware of their upcoming nuptials, he had stayed locked either in his chambers or in his study, carefully avoiding his mother so as to prevent her from asking any questions about his marriage or trying to talk him out of his decision. But the longer he thought about the wedding, the more constricting the walls began to feel. Desperate to put a soothing end to the solitude which had become oppressive and stifling, he hurried from the study, ordering that the carriage be readied to take him to visit Harry.

When he reached Harry and Louisa's home, it was a footman who ushered him inside. He had not made it far past the foyer before his sister stepped into view. Surprise registered on her face, and a strained silence hung between them. He had not spoken to his sister since before his marriage agreement had been finalized. But when Louisa's surprise gave way to concern and confusion, Rowan realized that their mother had told her about the wedding. He also knew that an explanation would be expected. And he knew that was the least he could do for having kept such a big secret from his beloved sister.

"Louisa," he said, attempting a tight smile as he gestured toward the parlor. "May I speak with you?"

Louisa nodded, worry and unasked questions flickering in her eyes. She took a step in the direction of the parlor, stopping just as Rowan prepared to follow her.

"I'm sorry, Brother," she said, looking away from him. "I must tend to my household duties. Please, excuse me."

Rowan opened his mouth to offer the promise to explain everything to her. But Louisa gave him a sad smile and then retreated into the bowels of the house. As she disappeared from view, Harry appeared. When he saw Rowan standing there, he smiled.

"Brother," he said, walking over to Rowan. "What a pleasant surprise."

Rowan sighed, glancing away guiltily before looking at his brother-in-law once more sheepishly.

"Can we talk?" he asked pensively.

Harry's smile melted and he nodded, clapping Rowan on the back.

"Of course," he said. "Let us go into the parlour."

Rowan nodded, following Harry silently the rest of the way to the parlor. Harry motioned for Rowan to sit while he poured them each a glass of whiskey. Rowan accepted his gratefully, savoring the moment before he began speaking as the two men drank from their tumblers.

"I suppose that you and Louisa have heard the news," Rowan finally blurted, not seeing any sense in banal pleasantries.

Harry nodded solemnly, resting his drink on his knee.

"Louisa received your mother's letter yesterday," he said.

Rowan nodded at the confirmation.

"I suspected as much," he said. "And I have no doubt the news was not well received."

Harry shook his head, his eyes filled with concern.

"Louisa loves you dearly, Rowan," he said. "As do I. We are simply concerned at the suddenness of it all. You never even mentioned a young lady that had caught your attention. What could make you come to such a big decision so quickly?"

Rowan sighed heavily. He still was not ready to discuss his reasons. But he supposed he had little choice right then. He just hoped he could trust his brother-in-law to not tell his mother what he was about to say.

"Father and I argued about me refusing to marry the day he died," he said. "And I have never stopped feeling guilty about it. I promised myself that I would spend the rest of my life fully devoted to my ducal duties. Especially this one."

Harry nodded, swirling his drink before he took another drink.

"That is commendable, Rowan," he said. "But why did you make the decision so suddenly? And why this particular young lady?"

Rowan bit his lip. He was already struggling with the pieces he had deigned to tell his brother-in-law. He was not sure he wanted Harry to know everything. He worried that his sister and her husband might think him mad if he told them everything. Besides, it felt like a secret he should keep just between the late Lady Caroline and himself.

"It will be a good match," he said. "And I know that's what Father wanted. What better wife could I choose besides the diamond of the season?"

Harry sipped his drink, looking thoughtful. He listened intently as Rowan spoke, and it felt good for him to get some of the thoughts he had been having over the past few years, and especially the last few days, out of his head. But he could not bring himself to speak of the part of the promise related to Lady Caroline. Even though he knew it would likely explain a great deal more about why he had chosen Lady Serena specifically.

"Brother, I trust that you are doing what you feel is best for you," he said when Rowan had finished his partial explanation for his reasoning. "But I must say that even so, you look as though you are just as surprised by this turn of events as I am. If there is something you are not telling me that would allow me to help you, please tell me now."

Rowan sighed, shaking his head. There was plenty he wasn't telling Harry, that much was true. But Rowan could spell out every single word, and Harry would still be unable to help.

"There is nothing with which you can help," he said. "It is for the best. It is just a little overwhelming, now that it is all becoming very real."

Harry nodded. While he looked no more convinced than he had a moment ago, he appeared as though he was more understanding.

"I can imagine that something so big happening so suddenly might overwhelm a man," he said. "Just remember that I am here for you, always. Even if all I can do is pour you a drink and let you pour out your troubles. But if you want my full assistance, I need you to be open and honest with me."

Rowan smiled at his brother-in-law, reaching over, and patting him on the back.

"Thank you, Brother," he said. He had no intention of being completely honest with Harry, or anyone, for a very long time. Perhaps never. But he appreciated the kindness, and it felt good to know that there were those who loved and supported him, even then.

A short time later, Rowan arrived back at his London townhouse. He slipped in through the front door, careful to make as little noise as possible as he made his way through the front hall. He thought of sitting in the drawing room and observe the view of the courtyard from the window there. But as he set foot inside the threshold of the room, he saw his mother sitting with her hands folded atop a book she had not bothered to open, directly facing the door.

An awkward silence stretched between them, and Rowan desperately wished that he'd just gone to his chambers, instead.

Finally, the dowager spoke.

"Tomorrow marks the anniversary of your father's passing," she said. Her voice was calm and level, but the storm brewing in her eyes struck Rowan in the heart. Guilt washed over him as he realized he had completely lost track of the month. His face turned bright red as he scrambled to pluck words from his mind.

"Mother, I—I did not realise," he said, shame tripping each word. "I mean, I knew when, I just did not know that it was already… I am sorry, Mother. Please, forgive my forgetfulness."

Another tense silence filled the room, and Rowan considered simply turning away and locking himself in his chambers after all, even though the damage was already done. But then, his mother's eyes filled with a spark of hope, and she gave him a tentative smile.

"Would you at least go with me to place flowers upon his grave?" she asked.

Rowan was nearly rendered to the floor as familiar grief and guilt hit him like tumultuous waters against a ship's hull. He leaned against the door frame to keep himself upright, averting his gaze from his mother's.

"I am sorry, but I cannot," he mumbled. "I have pressing business matters to attend to."

The dowager's shoulder's slumped, and Rowan glanced up to see the hope in her eyes fading right before his own. His heart squeezed, and he looked away again.

A moment later, his mother silently rose from her seat and crossed the room, not making eye contact with him as she exited the room. As she stepped past him, he caught the scent of her perfume, a lilac scent that his father had bought her when Rowan was just a boy. It reminded him of happier times, when his father was alive, and his mother was as loving and doting as any mother could ever be. He watched her walk regally but quickly away from him, wishing there were something he could do to bridge the chasm between them. But deep down, he did not believe that would ever be possible.