Chapter 15

As certain as Harriet was that she would marry Hugh Wilkinson and befriend him whilst protecting her heart, it was still not the easiest decision she had ever made. As morning broke the next day, she was hardly aware of the beauty of the day: her nerves set her heart completely aflutter.

She had risen early, unable to find solace in sleep, and had spent the past few hours flitting from one mundane task to another, desperately trying to distract herself from the inevitable confrontation with her brother. She had rearranged the flowers in the drawing-room, sorted through a stack of old correspondence, even attempted to dust the bookshelves in the library, much to the consternation of the housemaids.

But no matter how she tried to occupy herself, she could not escape the gnawing sense of dread that coiled in the pit of her stomach, the knowledge that she must face William and tell him that she was willing to marry the duke. Harriet had little doubt that William would act swiftly once she did and whilst she was certain that the advice Benedict had given her would work, it did not mean that she was quite ready.

With a sigh of frustration, Harriet tossed aside the feather duster she'd been twirling around and sank into a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands. She knew she was being ridiculous, knew that her constant presence underfoot was only serving to irritate the servants and disrupt the smooth running of the household. But she could not seem to help herself, could not seem to find the courage to do what she knew she must.

A soft knock at the door startled her from her brooding thoughts, and she looked up to see her mother"s gentle face peering in at her.

"Harriet, my child," Jennifer said, her voice filled with concern. "Are you all right? You"ve been flitting about like a hummingbird all morning."

Harriet managed a weak smile, though it felt brittle and false on her lips. "I"m fine, Mother. Just trying to keep myself busy, that"s all."

Jennifer lifted a brow and gestured at the duster. "I know. But I have never known you to take to dusting out of boredom. Hence my concern."

Harriet merely flashed her mother a weary smile. Jennifer crossed the room and sat beside her, taking her hand in a warm, comforting grip. "You don"t have to do this, you know. If marrying the Duke truly goes against your heart, we will find another way. I won"t see you sacrifice your happiness for the sake of appearances. If you truly are frightened..."

Harriet shook her head, a rueful laugh escaping her throat. "It is not that," she explained. "I was all right with it yesterday - and in a way, I still am. I know that I can guard my heart against hurt and I know that he will not be an awful husband... I will marry him and do what I must to salvage our reputation, it is just..."

Harriet sighed, a rueful smile settling across her features. "I have not yet told William and I just know that when I do, he will waste no time in making arrangements. I will marry Hugh, I will manage... but I am not entirely sure I am quite ready for it yet."

Jennifer laughed softly, though her gaze was still sympathetic. "I understand, my darling. Your brother will run you right to the altar in an instant once you agree - the man has the subtlety of a bull in a glass market, and he has never really been one to be patient. But I will do what I can to hold him back - perhaps whisper in his ear that we do not want to scare the duke off by being too hasty."

Harriet squeezed her mother"s hand, drawing strength from her unwavering support. "Thank you, Mother. For always being there, for always believing in me, even when I doubt myself."

They sat in silence for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts. At last, Harriet stood, smoothing her skirts with a decisive nod.

"I must speak with William," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her belly. "I must tell him of my decision and get it over with - and hope that he doesn't marry me off by the end of the day in his haste."

Jennifer rose as well, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter"s forehead. "I will be here, my darling. Whatever happens, know that you have my love and my support, always."

With a final, grateful smile, Harriet turned and made her way to her brother"s study, each step feeling like a leaden weight upon her soul. She paused outside the heavy oak door, her hand trembling slightly as she raised it to knock.

"Enter," came William"s curt reply, and Harriet took a final, steadying breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Her brother sat behind his desk, his face a mask of stern disapproval as he watched her approach. Harriet felt a flicker of anger at his cold reception, but she tamped it down, knowing that she must humble herself if she had any hope of making amends.

"William," she began, her voice soft but steady. "I have come to apologize for the scandal I have brought upon our family. I know you do not believe me, but it truly was a misunderstanding..."

William merely looked at her stiffly and Harriet flinched at his cold gaze. She lifted her chin in defiance. "It was never my intention to cause harm, and I have tried telling you this so many times. What happened on the balcony was a misunderstanding, brought about by bored matrons who spend their lives looking for the next scandal to talk about."

William scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "A misunderstanding? Are you still trying to defend yourself? You have never acted like a proper lady, Harriet and perhaps it is my fault - perhaps I should have taken a firmer stand with our mother, and you would not have followed her example, but..."

Harriet"s cheeks burned with shame and anger, but she held her tongue, knowing that any attempt to defend herself would only further incense her brother.

"I cannot change what happened, William," she said instead, her voice low and steady. "But I can take steps to mitigate the damage, to salvage what is left of our reputation."

William"s brows shot up in surprise, a flicker of hope kindling in his eyes. "Oh. So you have made your decision then?"

Harriet took a deep breath, steeling herself for the words she knew she must say. "I will marry him, William. I will marry the Duke of Frighton and put an end to the scandal before it can spread any further."

For a long moment, William simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth, a look of fierce satisfaction settling over his features.

"Well, well," he said, leaning back in his chair with a smug air of triumph. "It seems you have finally come to your senses, Harriet. I must say, I am pleased to hear it."

Harriet bristled at his condescending tone, but she bit back the sharp retort that danced on the tip of her tongue. "I am doing what I must for the sake of our family, William. But do not think for a moment that I am happy about it, or that I will forget the way you have treated me throughout this entire ordeal."

William's smile faded, his eyes hardening once more. "You brought this upon yourself, Harriet. And now you must face the consequences of your actions, whether you like it or not."

He rose from his chair, crossing to the window and gazing out over the manicured grounds of the estate. "I have already made arrangements for you and the Duke to attend the opera with mother and myself tomorrow evening. It will be the perfect opportunity to show the ton that you are a respectable couple, and to begin the process of rebuilding our standing in society."

Harriet's heart sank at the thought of facing the curious stares and whispered speculations of the ton so soon, but she knew she had no choice. If she was to salvage any shred of her reputation, she must play the part of the dutiful fiancée, must smile and simper and pretend that all was well, even as her heart ached with the weight of her sacrifice.

"Very well," she said, her voice tight with resignation. "I will be ready."

William looked at her sternly. "I trust that your willingness to marry the man also means that you will end your foolish attempts to convince him that you are not worthy of his hand."

Harriet's eyes widened as she looked at her brother and he folded his arms.

"Oh, Harriet," he said firmly. "Do you think I do not know you? Playing cards, wagering bets, dancing like a madwoman... You have done all you possibly could to make a spectacle, not only of yourself but of him as well. The fact that he is still willing to marry you is a miracle - and if he now decides that he is not willing to do that, I will know that it is because of something you have done and you will spend your days on Aunt Mildred's estate."

Harriet closed her eyes, blinking back tears. Of course he had known all along that her behavior was an attempt to scare the duke off. Her brother unfortunately knew her well, after all.

"I thought..." she started, but cut off her own words - unable to find an excuse that he may find acceptable. William merely shook his head. It was clear that there was no excuse he would accept.

Harriet stared at William firmly. "I will need to have a dress made before this opera."

William nodded stiffly, a knowing smile playing around his lips. Harriet knew that he was no fool - as frustrating as he was - and that he knew the new dress was her own, pathetic way of asserting some form of power.

"I have already notified a dressmaker of our urgent need," he said smoothly. "She will be here before sunset."

There was nothing left to say, and Harriet made her way out of the office with a huff.

As William had promised, the dressmaker was there shortly and Harriet was quick to call for Prudence's assistance as the older woman worked on pinning the flowing emerald garment around her.

"Oh the dress will be beautiful," Prudence chattered away eagerly. "The color really suits you, my lady."

The dressmaker nodded proudly. "It is indeed the perfect color," the woman claimed as she stood back a while later.

"And you look positively radiant, my lady."

Harriet merely flashed the woman a stiff smile. William was nothing if not entirely transparent: of course he thought that a beautiful dress would not only placate his sister, but also prove to the duke that she was a worthy prospect.

One that would not embarrass him, one that would not ruin his reputation with her behavior.

She needed to be every bit the lady and though the dress was by no means enough to prove that she was, she knew that it was a start.

She slipped the dress off quickly at the dressmaker's instruction and made a grab for her day dress - a far more comfortable one, though not nearly as beautiful. Harriet did not wait to hear platitudes and compliments from either the dressmaker or Prudence.

She merely rushed back to her own bedchamber, frustrated tears burning behind her eyelids.

When Jennifer knocked at her chamber door some hours later, Harriet ignored it. For the first time in her life, she did not even want to speak to her mother.

She wanted nothing more than to be left alone.