Chapter 17

Hugh"s brow furrowed as he searched Harriet"s face, trying to decipher the emotion that flickered behind her eyes. "A condition?" he echoed, his voice laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. "What sort of condition, lass?"

Harriet drew a deep breath, steeling herself for the words she knew she must say. "I will marry you, Hugh. I will be your wife in every way that matters, your partner and your ally. But I need you to promise me something, something that is crucial to my agreeing to this union."

Hugh's grip on her hand tightened fractionally, his gaze intense as he waited for her to continue. "Anythin", lassie. Name it, and it shall be done."

She swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs as she forced the words past her lips. "I need you to promise that you will not fall in love with me. That you will guard your heart against such weakness, just as I will guard mine against the same."

For a long moment, Hugh simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a frown creased his brow, confusion and disbelief warring in his eyes. "Ye want me to promise nae to love you? But why, lass? Why would ye ask such a thing of me, of yerself?"

Harriet shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Please, Your Grace. Don"t ask me to explain. Just know that it is what I need, what I must have if I am to go through with this. Can you give me your word, your solemn vow, that you will not let your heart be swayed by the vagaries of emotion?"

Hugh was silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he struggled to comprehend her request. At last, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with resignation. "Aye, lass. If that is what ye truly want, what ye need to feel secure in this match, then I give ye me word. I willnae fall in love with ye, Harriet Lourne. I will be yer husband, yer friend, yer partner in all things...but I willnae let my heart be ruled by sentiment."

Relief washed over Harriet in a dizzying wave, and she sagged against the sofa, a shaky laugh escaping her throat. "Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you for understanding, for giving me this reassurance. It means more to me than you can possibly know."

He squeezed her hand once more, a wry smile quirking his lips. "Think nothin" of it, lass. I"m a man of me word, and I"ll nae go back on a promise, nay matter how strange or confoundin" it may be."

With that, he rose to his feet, offering her his arm in a gallant gesture. "Now, what say we return to the opera? I believe we"ve missed quite enough of the performance already, and I"d hate to give the gossips any more fodder for their waggin" tongues."

Harriet accepted his arm with a grateful smile, allowing him to escort her back to their box. As they settled into their seats once more, she couldn"t help but be acutely aware of Hugh"s solid presence beside her, the heat of his body searing her even through the layers of silk and brocade.

She tried to focus on the unfolding drama on stage, but her mind kept drifting back to the conversation they had just shared, the weight of the promises they had made. It was a strange sort of pact, she knew, a vow to deny the very essence of what made a marriage true and lasting.

But it was a necessary one, a safeguard against the perils of love and the heartbreak that so often followed in its wake. And though a small, traitorous part of her heart whispered that she was cheating herself out of life"s greatest adventure, Harriet ruthlessly silenced it, determined to stay the course she had set for herself.

The rest of the opera passed in a blur, the soaring melodies and sweeping arias washing over Harriet in a distant haze. Before she knew it, the final curtain had fallen, and Hugh was escorting her out of the theater and into the waiting carriage.

The ride back to the Lourne estate was a quiet one, each of them lost in their own thoughts as the clatter of hooves and the creak of the wheels filled the silence. When at last they pulled up to the grand entrance, Hugh alighted first, offering his hand to help Harriet down.

She accepted it with a murmured thanks, her skin tingling at the contact despite the layers of glove and silk that separated them. Hugh bowed over her hand, his eyes glinting with something she couldn"t quite name in the flickering light of the torches.

"Until tomorrow, me lady," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. "Sleep well, and dream of brighter days ahead."

With that, he turned and strode back to the carriage, leaving Harriet to watch his retreating form with a curious mix of relief and regret churning in her breast.

William, who stood next to her, looked at her curiously. "You were with him for the entirety of the intermission," he said eagerly. "What did you decide? What did you discuss?"

Jennifer looked at her son admonishingly. "William..."

But there was no stopping him. He was far too eager to salvage their reputation, far too hopeful to wait.

"Will you marry?"

Harriet pursed her lips and took a deep breath, though she soon forced herself to smile.

"We spoke," she admitted. "And yes, William - I agreed to marry him. I dare say the gossips will have little to feast upon in the coming days."

William"s shoulders sagged with relief, a fierce grin splitting his face. "Excellent, excellent. And the wedding? Have you and Frighton settled on a date?"

Jennifer shook her head at this and looked at her son with a frown. "Really, William," she said sternly. "We still have to meet the family, there is an engagement party to be held, arrangements to be made."

William ignored his mother and looked at his sister expectantly.

"Not yet," Harriet admitted, a flicker of trepidation skittering down her spine. "But we will, soon. We both know the importance of a swift resolution, of putting an end to the scandal before it can fester and spread."

William nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well then, we must move quickly. I"ll not have my sister"s reputation hanging in the balance a moment longer than necessary."

Harriet merely inclined her head in agreement, too weary and emotionally drained to argue. She allowed William to usher her inside, his chatter about wedding preparations and guest lists washing over her in a distant buzzing as she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.

It wasn"t until she was alone, the door firmly closed behind her, that she allowed herself to sag against the wall, her composure crumbling like a house of cards. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously, refusing to give in to the well of emotion that threatened to engulf her.

She had made her choice, had pledged herself to a path of pragmatism and restraint. And though her heart ached with the weight of all she had surrendered, all she had denied herself, she knew she must stay strong, must not waver in her resolve.

For better or worse, she was to be Hugh Wilkinson"s wife, his partner in all things. And she would face that future with her head held high, her heart guarded against the perils of love and the heartbreak that so often followed in its wake.

In the days that followed, the Lourne and Wilkinson families threw themselves into the preparations for the upcoming nuptials with a fervor that bordered on frantic. There was so much to be done, so many details to be settled, that Harriet scarcely had a moment to breathe, let alone dwell on the momentous step she was about to take.

Instead of a grand engagement party, it was decided that a more intimate family dinner would be held, a chance for the two clans to meet and mingle before the wedding itself. Harriet found herself strangely nervous as the appointed evening approached, her stomach fluttering with butterflies as she fussed over her appearance in the mirror.

When, at last, the Wilkinsons arrived, Harriet was struck by the easy rapport that seemed to exist between Hugh and his sister. Abigail was a delightful creature, all sunny smiles and infectious laughter, and Harriet found herself warming to the girl almost instantly.

Abigail, Harriet found quite quickly, was unlike most girls of the ton. She soon found herself drawn to Abigail, eager to engage in conversation with someone who seemed so refreshingly genuine amidst the sea of polished socialites.

It was Abigail who dragged Harriet off to the drawing-room under the guise of showing her around, her eyes twinkling with delight as they escaped the other guests - Hugh had been chatting animatedly with Jennifer, whilst William was the one who stood around rather uncomfortably.

"I am so glad to finally meet you, My Lady," Abigail chirped, her voice bright and cheerful. "My brother said that you are different from most ladies and I am so glad. Those women of the ton are so stuffy and pretentious..."

Harriet laughed softly at this, immediately charmed by Abigail"s effervescent personality. "I must say, I am just as glad to meet you. I was rather intimidated by the prospect of meeting His Grace's sister, but you have set my mind at ease."

Abigail waved a dismissive hand, her smile widening. "Oh, nonsense! We"re just a bunch of rough-and-tumble Scots, nothing to be intimidated by, I assure you. My brother told me all about the scandal. I..."

She looked at Harriet worriedly. "I apologize. It is not proper to talk of scandals and I do not want to be like the town gossips. My brother says that one must always refrain from speaking about scandals and being a gossip."

Harriet shook her head with a grin. "Your brother is a kind man."

"Oh!" Abigail nodded vigorously. "Hugh has always been a kind man. Without him..."

Harriet looked at Abigail curiously and the latter shook her head with a sigh. "Without him, I don't know where I'd have been. He practically raised me - but I suppose we must get back to the others, it is awfully rude of me to take all of your attention."

Harriet nodded, though she was quite reluctant to return. From the get-go, William had seemed rather awkward with the Duke and his sister - as though he did not know what to say.

Words drifted towards her as she re-entered the dining hall and to her surprise, the voice belonged to her brother rather than her mother.

"If we start working towards exporting goods from countries like Africa and the Americas, I am almost certain it would be a pioneering endeavor," William was saying. "A friend of mine once brought a bit of tea from Africa and it was rather incredible. I think that if the right people invested, it could change the way we see the trading world."

Harriet lifted her brows as her eyes found the figure of her brother, eagerly talking to Hugh. Jennifer, standing off to the side with a glass of wine, quickly moved towards her daughter and Abigail, a smile playing around her lips.

"William has been unstoppable since he found out that His Grace is interested in trades," she whispered and Harriet shook her head.

She knew how her brother could get once he started talking about business and a blush rose to her cheeks. As though he was aware of her, he turned his head ever so slightly - their eyes meeting.

Harriet's lips curled into a smile, echoing the smile forming on Hugh's face.

With Abigail next to her, and Hugh smiling at her from across the room, it was not difficult to believe that her marriage could end up being a rather happy one indeed.