Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

“ I t was a lovely ceremony, was it not?” Edwin ventured, leaning slightly toward Hanna, who sat across from him, absently pushing her buttered vegetables around her plate.

The sound of her fork scraping against the porcelain set his teeth on edge, the noise grating enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Is that quite necessary?” he added, with a strained smile, trying to keep his tone light.

It was painfully clear that she hadn’t wanted this marriage. Edwin had known that from the moment he saw her walking down the aisle on her father’s arm. She hadn’t even worn a veil, just a simple white gown with a crocheted shawl draped over her shoulders. Her face, unmarred by any attempt to hide her emotions, was a portrait of reluctant resignation.

This was not a woman who wished to be his Duchess. But he could hardly blame her, given the circumstances.

He was well aware of his reputation, and he hadn’t expected a joyful bride. Still, the depth of her misery surprised him.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” he asked, attempting to draw her out of her silence.

Her eyes rose, dull and unenthusiastic. “I do not care for pheasant,” she replied bluntly. “And I despise buttered vegetables.”

“Oh,” Edwin said, taken aback by her candor. “Well, once we arrive at my estate, you must inform Mrs. Maple, the housekeeper, of your preferences. She will make certain the cook accommodates your tastes.”

“Thank you,” she answered, though her tone was far from grateful.

Edwin dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief, assessing the situation. If his wife did not soften her demeanor, their marriage would indeed prove to be a trying one. But he was not entirely unsympathetic. He knew that Hanna had been a pawn in a game orchestrated by her father, much as he had been. It was hardly fair to either of them, but such were the realities of life in their circles.

“Mrs. Maple is quite capable,” he continued. “Perhaps you might share with her all the dishes you prefer. I don’t have particular tastes and will eat almost anything placed before me. My mother always encouraged me to try everything at least once, and I found that most things agree with me.”

Hanna blinked at him, her expression suggesting she was unsure why he was prattling on about such trivial matters.

“I suppose that makes you an easy man to please,” she murmured.

“Indeed,” he agreed, a touch more cheerfully than he felt. “I confess, I have a preference for marzipan and candied orange peels, but I find candied lemon peels quite unpalatable. Do you share my distaste?”

To his surprise, a hint of amusement flickered across her face, softening her expression.

“No,” she replied, the faintest smile playing on her lips. “I rather prefer lemon.”

“Well then,” he said, seizing upon this small victory, “that’s one thing we shall never quarrel over.”

“Indeed,” she murmured, the corners of her mouth quirking up ever so slightly.

Encouraged, Edwin cast about for another topic. “My estate is rather expansive, as you might have heard. There is a fine stable with a number of excellent horses. I recently acquired a quiet Arabian mare—an exquisite creature. I wonder, do you enjoy riding?”

“Yes,” she uttered, but her eyes had returned to her plate, the brief light in them extinguished once more.

“Splendid,” Edwin said, more to himself than to her. “I noticed your shawl earlier. I believe you have a talent for crochet? My mother and grandmother were quite skilled with their needles as well. I could show you some of their work if you’d like.”

Hanna’s eyes met his, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of genuine interest in them. “I would like that,” she said softly.

“Excellent,” he murmured, relieved to have found at least one thing that might ease the tension between them.

Before he could prolong this unexpected moment of connection, Lord Worcester rose from his seat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he boomed, though there weren’t many guests to warrant such a formal address.

Aside from Edwin and Hanna, there was only Emma, Martin, and a handful of servants. It was such a modest affair, especially for the wedding of a duke .

“I am most grateful to have you all gathered here today,” Lord Worcester continued, his tone unctuous. “Though my two other children could not be with us in person, I am certain they are with us in spirit.” He chuckled, as though he and his absent offspring shared a deep bond and were not estranged because of his actions.

Edwin watched with growing distaste as the Earl continued, suddenly struck by how similar the fates of the two Hayward sisters were. Arabella had famously been coerced into marriage with the Duke of Sheffield, and now her sister had been forced into the same wretched situation.

“I am truly delighted to welcome such a fine man into our family,” Lord Worcester proclaimed. “His Grace and I have long been acquainted, and while some of our previous dealings may not have ended to mutual satisfaction, I am confident that this union marks the beginning of a prosperous and harmonious future.” He raised his glass. “To the future.”

The guests exchanged puzzled glances before awkwardly lifting their glasses in turn, and then silence descended over them once more.

“Not much of an orator, is he?” Edwin remarked dryly.

Hanna merely shrugged. “I stopped trying to understand my father long ago,” she said with a resigned sigh. “When shall we depart for your estate?”

Edwin studied her, uncertain whether her question stemmed from eagerness to see her new home or desperation to leave the old one.

“We shall leave as soon as you’ve finished your meal,” he replied. “I have some pressing business to attend to this afternoon. I trust you do not mind that we shall not be journeying at a leisurely pace?”

“I had not expected leisure,” she said flatly.

Edwin struggled to find a response. “Right. Well, I’ve arranged for you to have my late mother’s rooms. My father always said that a lady deserves nothing but the best. You shall find an account in your name with all the finest vendors, and Mrs. Maple will provide you with a list. Will you be bringing your lady’s maid with you?”

Hanna looked surprised. “I did not think it was allowed. My sister Arabella was required to use the maids already working at Ridlington Manor.”

“I see,” Edwin replied thoughtfully. “Well, if you wish, arrangements can be made.”

“I could have handled it if I was given more time,” she muttered. “I have not even packed all my trunks yet.”

“Your belongings will be delivered shortly,” he assured her. “And we are not so far from Hayward Manor that you cannot return whenever you wish. In fact, I rather hoped we would spend some time here.”

“You wish to spend some time at Hayward Manor?” Hanna sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yes,” Edwin replied. “Does that astonish you?”

“It does. My sister and her husband seldom visit.”

“Well, your brother-in-law’s business interests, unlike mine, aren’t entwined with your father’s affairs. I thought it might be easier for you to visit your sister here rather than endure the burden of entertaining your father at our home.”

“That would be preferable,” Hanna conceded.

Edwin felt a flicker of hope. This marriage, he realized, would require far more effort than he had anticipated. But for the first time, he felt that perhaps, with time and patience, they might just make something of it.