Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

“ I cannot believe you’re truly going through with this,” Martin remarked, his voice heavy with disbelief as he watched Edwin adjust his waistcoat in front of the mirror.

The Duke was dressed impeccably, every button and seam perfectly aligned, yet his expression remained grim.

“Nor can I,” he replied curtly, tugging at his cravat. “This is hardly how I envisioned marriage. In truth, I never envisioned marriage at all.”

“There is still time to back down,” Martin urged, his voice turning serious, devoid of its usual mirth. “You needn’t go through with this. I would hate to see you condemn yourself to a life of unhappiness.”

Edwin rounded on his friend with a sudden intensity. “You would hate to see me unhappy? Is that to suggest that I have, at any moment in the past year, been anything but?”

Martin raised his hands placatingly. “No, of course not. You have been utterly miserable. But your misery stems from grief over your brother and anger toward Lord Worcester. Such emotions are temporary—they will dull with time, perhaps even fade. I know, for that was how I felt when my mother and father passed. But marriage? A union with a woman you neither love nor know, purely for convenience? That is a life sentence, Edwin.”

“Do you think I am unaware of this?” Edwin retorted, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in his eyes.

The truth was, he had scarcely thought it through. The idea to offer Worcester a partnership had come to his mind during that accursed ball, when the Earl had offered condolences for Benjamin’s death in such a hollow, insincere manner that it had kindled a fury within Edwin. He had resolved right then and there to make a move.

The marriage proposal had occurred to him unexpectedly, spurred by the realization that the young woman he had aided in the garden was none other than Worcester’s daughter. It had been a revelation that changed everything.

Between the business partnership and this union, Edwin would have access to Worcester’s dealings. He would be able to unearth the truth—that it was Worcester who had mismanaged the funds given to Benjamin, who had led the illicit operations beneath the veneer of the Saint Charles and beyond. But to do this, he required access—the sort of access only a wife could provide.

Was he truly committing such a terrible act? Lady Hanna was nearing five-and-twenty; she would be considered a spinster before long. If she did not secure a match this year, she might never do so, and who, in such circumstances, would refuse the opportunity to become a duchess?

“Edwin?” Martin’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and Edwin glanced at him.

“Yes?”

“I pity her. Lady Hanna, that is. How do you suppose she’ll feel when she learns you only married her to expose her father’s crimes?”

“I’ve heard that Lady Hanna, along with her sister Emma and the Duchess of Sheffield, harbor no affection for him,” Edwin replied coolly. “I daresay she’ll be grateful when his transgressions are brought to light. And besides, she shall have a title, the finest gowns, jewels, freedom?—”

“She appeared quite frightened by the prospect,” Martin pointed out, his brow furrowed.

They had met with Lord Worcester and his daughters the day prior, to discuss the final arrangements. The ceremony was to take place that very afternoon, a mere five days since Edwin had struck his deal with Worcester. It had all been arranged with such haste.

“Of course, she was frightened,” Edwin conceded, turning back to the mirror. “But she will have a good life. I shall see to it that she has everything she desires.”

“Everything but a loving husband and a house full of children,” Martin remarked quietly.

Edwin swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “Many have had heirs without love, and marriages of convenience are hardly a novelty. In time, she will see that I am not the monster the scandal sheets paint me as. Perhaps she may even come to care for me. Lady Hanna is not a vapid woman.”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of genuine surprise. “Do you care for her?”

“I hardly know her well enough to say,” Edwin answered honestly. “But when I first spoke with her in my garden, I could tell she was different. She’s not like the others—she is soft-spoken and serious, not drawn to the pomp and splendor. Yes, she is timid, but that will suit me well. And,” he added, almost shyly, “she enjoys crochet.”

Martin blinked. “You chose her because she shares your late mother’s passion for crochet?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not precisely,” Edwin replied, straightening up. “But it’s a nice touch. I intend to show her my mother’s and grandmother’s collections—doilies, table runners, all manner of intricate lacework. I have a veritable mountain of yarn. She’ll appreciate it.”

Martin snorted. “Oh, indeed, I’m certain she’ll be delighted to exchange her independence for an endless supply of yarn and a collection of doilies.”

Edwin pressed his lips together, his cheeks flushing. He knew he was making a fool of himself, but still, he wanted Lady Hanna to be content if not happy. Yet, what did he truly know of her? How could he, a stranger, possibly anticipate what would make her so?

Suddenly, they heard a sharp bark, and both men turned to see Ruby prancing into the room, a pillow clenched between his teeth, its fabric torn and stuffing spilling onto the floor.

“Ruby, no!” Edwin chastised, his tone sharp, but the dog merely wagged his tail, as if proud of his spoils. “For heaven’s sake, that pillow was a gift from my grandmother.”

“Perhaps Lady Hanna can crochet you a replacement,” Martin quipped, unable to hide his grin.

“Very droll,” Edwin muttered, though he bent to retrieve the shredded remains of the pillow.

Ruby, undeterred, scampered off with a triumphant yip, his tail fluttering like a pennant.

“Edwin,” Martin began again, more seriously now. “Are you certain about this? Truly certain?”

“No,” Edwin admitted, surprising himself with his honesty. “But what other choice do I have? I need to bring Worcester to justice, and Lady Hanna… she is the key to that. I shall ensure she has the finest chamber at the estate. I’ve arranged accounts for her with the most exclusive milliners and dressmakers. I’ve instructed my staff to treat her as if she were a queen.”

“And do you imagine that will be enough?” Martin asked gently.

“For the time being, it will have to be,” Edwin replied, his tone resolute, though doubt flickered in his eyes. He turned back to the mirror, smoothing his lapels, and forced a smile. “Now, let us be on our way before I lose what little courage I possess.”

With that, they made their way toward the waiting carriage, Ruby trailing behind them, her bark echoing through the halls.

As Edwin took one last look around his home, he steeled himself for the path he had chosen, hoping that, somehow, amidst all the deception and intrigue, he might find some semblance of peace.