Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

H anna sat in Emma’s chamber, the familiar scent of rosewater hanging in the air. For the first time in what felt like years, she relaxed. It was a small comfort, to be back in this room where so many of their childhood secrets had been shared.

Emma, her younger sister, sat across from her on the bed, a tentative smile on her lips. Hanna had filled her in on everything that had transpired over the past few days, and she eagerly listened. But now, it was her turn to speak.

“I received something for you just this morning,” she said softly, reaching into her small escritoire. With careful hands, she pulled out a folded letter, its edges slightly worn from travel. “It’s from Bella.”

Hanna’s heart gave a slight jolt at the mention of their youngest sister. She hadn’t realized how much she missed Arabella until this very moment. Her hand shook slightly as she took the letter from Emma and unfolded it.

The familiar slant of Arabella’s handwriting brought her an immediate sense of comfort.

My dearest Hanna,

I have just received your letter, and I must say, I am beyond shocked by what has transpired. I can scarcely believe that our father would come to such an arrangement without consulting any of us. Especially after the way he forced me and Harry into matrimony. To have you wed so suddenly—it feels as though the ground has been ripped from beneath us all.

I must apologize that neither Harry nor I could return in time to stop it. We are both heartsick over it. Had we known sooner, I would have moved heaven and earth to intervene. But what’s done is done. Know this, dearest—if things are dreadful with your new husband, you need only say the word, and we will take you in. You have my word, and Harry’s as well. You are not alone.

However, I must admit something to you. Harry knows Edwin’s friend—Martin Clark, the Marquess of Chester—and speaks well about him. He assures me that Martin is a good and loyal man, deeply devoted to Edwin. It seems Edwin may not be as terrible as we have feared. Though it pains me to say that perhaps this match is not as dreadful as it first seemed.

Harry also does not believe the rumors about Edwin—about him being responsible for his brother’s death. You must not listen to such gossip, Hanna. You know how the ton speaks, how they invent lies out of the thinnest of threads. Remember what they once said about Harry when he and I got married—whispers of debts, scandal, and all manner of falsehoods. And yet, look at me now! I am content, happy even, and we have a child of our own.

I encourage you to try and make the best of this situation, dearest sister. One never knows what fate has in store. I, too, once believed my life was set on a course of misery, and yet here I am, happier than I could have ever imagined. I would never have thought so at the beginning, but now… well, perhaps things will change for you as well.

We are staying in Ireland for another fortnight, as Alexander continues to recover from his injuries. The doctors say his strength is returning, though he must still rest. Harry and I have been by his side, and Helen, too, sends her love. She was most distressed to hear of your situation, but I assured her that you are strong and will weather this as you always do.

Take heart, Hanna. I love you dearly, and we will be home soon.

Yours,

Bella.

Hanna let the letter fall to her lap, the paper trembling slightly in her hands. Arabella’s words echoed in her mind, offering a strange blend of reassurance and unease.

“If things are dreadful…”

The very idea made her throat constrict, but Arabella’s unwavering support brought a sense of relief. They would take her in, no matter what happened. That was a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed until now.

Emma, who had been watching her closely, leaned in. “What does Bella say?”

Hanna took a deep breath and smiled weakly. “She’s shocked by the marriage. She says Father shouldn’t have come to such an arrangement. But… she’s trying to reassure me.” She paused, glancing down at the letter once more. “Harry knows the Marquess of Chester. He says Martin is a good man, loyal to Edwin. So perhaps Edwin isn’t as terrible as we thought.” Her words felt tentative, as if she was still considering the possibility.

Emma tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Do you think Bella is right?”

Hanna hesitated, biting her lip. “I don’t know. Bella seems to think that the rumors about Edwin—about him killing his brother for the title—are just that, rumors. She says we should ignore them like we ignored the gossip about Harry when he married her.”

Emma frowned. “But the ton does love gossip. They’ll turn anything into a scandal if it suits them.”

Hanna nodded slowly. “Exactly. Bella’s reminding me of that. She… she also said that I should try to make the best of things. She wasn’t happy when she first married Harry, but now she is. They have their child.” Her voice softened at the end, the image of her sister’s newfound happiness lingering in her mind.

Arabella had been in a similar situation once, full of dread and uncertainty, and now she was content. Could the same happen for Hanna?

Emma reached out and placed a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. “Bella’s right, you know. You never can tell what the future holds. Perhaps things will get better.”

Hanna smiled weakly, though her heart was still heavy. “Perhaps.”

But in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder—was Arabella’s optimism justified? Or was it simply the comfort of a sister trying to offer hope where none existed? Only time would tell.

Hanna made her way downstairs to see if Edwin and her father were getting along, inspired to show Edwin the same care he’d shown her. Instead, found herself distracted by the sound of liquid sloshing inside a bottle as she passed the parlor.

There, she saw her father standing with a bottle in hand.

“Father?”

He turned to her, his eyes wide. “Hanna. I did not hear you coming.”

She watched him conceal the bottle with trembling hands, her heart sinking. The sight was painfully familiar. She had watched him hide his weaknesses all her life, always attempting to present a facade of strength. But behind that facade was a man ruled by his vices—his gambling, his pride, and, most of all, his drinking.

“Where’s Edwin?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

“In the study, I believe. Looking at the estate’s accounts,” her father replied, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk.

The smirk unnerved her, and she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s amusing about that?”

Her father’s expression remained irritatingly casual. “Just the idea of him sifting through the numbers, expecting to find something of value,” he drawled.

Hanna’s brow furrowed. How could her father be so blasé about the state of his affairs?

“Aren’t you concerned?” she pressed. “You know as well as I do that the estate’s accounts aren’t exactly… pristine.”

Her father’s expression darkened, his smile turning into a scowl. “Watch your tone, girl. I know how to keep a ledger.”

Her irritation rose to the surface, and she took a step toward him, unwilling to let this go. “Do you? You’ve hidden enough bills and failed investments over the years. You can’t think Edwin won’t see that. Alexander did.”

The Earl looked at her, his eyes cold and calculating. “Do not mention that name in front of me. Besides, I’m not showing him everything, Hanna. Only what I want him to see. Just enough to keep him satisfied. I’ve dealt with bigger men than your husband.”

Hanna’s stomach churned at the admission. She had always known her father was secretive about his business, especially when it came to the losses. There were certain dealings with Benjamin that he had kept under lock and key along with other bad investments he’d made over the years. But hearing him speak so openly about deceiving Edwin sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Are you trying to deceive him, Father?”

Lord Worcester leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a hint of menace. “I’m merely showing my best side,” he said smoothly. “Edwin wanted a partnership, not me. And I’m certainly not going to show him every failure. That would be bad business.”

“Then why did you marry me off to him if you don’t trust him?” Hanna asked, her voice trembling with disbelief and anger.

Something sinister flashed in her father’s eyes. “One must keep one’s enemies close. Besides, it is only beneficial to have two dukes in the family. People have belittled me long enough for my inability to marry you off, and now two of my daughters are married to dukes.”

Hanna felt the blood drain from her face. Enemies? Was that what she had become? A pawn in a strategic game her father was playing against Edwin?

All her life, she had been raised to believe that her worth lay in her marriage, in securing alliances for her family. But now she saw it clearly. This marriage wasn’t about her future or an alliance that would benefit both houses—it was about control.

Her father wanted leverage over Edwin, and she had been the price. He’d wanted prestige on the backs of his children, and he got that too.

Her pulse quickened, anger rising in her chest. “Why did you send me to his home? Why use me like this? How do you know I will not tell him you are concealing things from him?”

Her father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes glittering. “Because you’re my daughter, and it’s your duty to protect this family. You’re in a position to see things I cannot. Edwin may be your husband, but never forget where your true loyalties lie. You owe me everything. And Edwin? He can’t be trusted. His brother was a scoundrel, and one must assume it runs in the family.”

As he spoke, he looked past her as if he didn’t want her to look into his eyes and see—what? Whatever it was, he concealed it.

“Now that you are in his house, I expect you to alert me to any inconsistencies, do you hear me?”

A wave of revulsion washed over Hanna. “You want me to spy on him?”

Her father didn’t flinch. “Call it whatever you want. But you’ll report back to me. I need to know what he plans, what he’s doing with our business, and where his loyalties truly lie.”

A cold weight settled in her stomach as the realization of her father’s intent hit her full force. He wasn’t just using her—he was trying to manipulate her, to mold her into something unrecognizable. A tool. A weapon.

“I won’t do it,” she declared, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with resolve. “I won’t betray him.”

Lord Worcester’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. “You will . You have no choice in this, Hanna. You may think you’ve escaped my control by marrying the Duke, but you are still mine . You will do as I say. After all, you would not want your sister to end up marrying Lord Sandringham, would you?”

Lord Sandringham was a family friend who was well into his fifth decade, and over the years, he’d expressed a desire for a third wife—a young one this time. Usually, her father would threaten them with such a match when he felt particularly cruel, but this time it seemed as though he was mostly sober—and using it as a threat.

Hanna took a step back, the room spinning around her. She had never felt so betrayed, so utterly alone. The man who had raised her, the man she had spent her life trying to please, was now revealing himself as the true enemy. He wanted her to undermine her marriage, to become his spy in Edwin’s home.

As she turned and walked out of the room, her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. How could her father have done this? Was this all she had been to him—a bargaining chip, a pawn in his schemes? And now, what was she supposed to do?

The air felt cold as she stepped into the hallway. She clenched her fists, her heart pounding in her chest.

She was no longer her father’s pawn. She would not be used—not by him, not by anyone.

With her nostrils flaring, she turned and made her way back into the parlor, no longer willing to accept his cruelty.