Chapter 9

The golden glow of the morning that filtered through Harriet's bedroom window the next morning felt like a stark contrast to the dread building within her. For all the promissory cheer of the day, an oppressive cloud of unease seemed to pervade every shadowed corner as Harriet readied herself to receive her caller.

"My lady..."

It was Prudence who glanced in the door, her countenance a mask of curiosity. "There is a gentleman for you at the door."

Harriet could do nothing but nod stiffly, feeling lightheaded at the thought - as though the very air had been leeched from the room. She patted her upswept chignon one final time before gathering her resolve and sweeping into her mother's room.

Her face was a pale mask as she entered and the sympathy in Jennifer's eyes was evident. "He is here," Harriet whispered through dry lips and Jennifer stood quickly, taking her daughter's hand.

"I am here with you," the older women whispered and, for a blissful moment, Harriet allowed herself to feel at peace.

The moment faded quickly when William's knuckles rapped against the door and he looked at the women sternly. "He is here."

Jennifer and Harriet shared a quick look before making their way down to the front door.

The sight of the imposing Scotsman looming near the windows, hands clasped rigidly behind his back as he surveyed the sculpted gardens beyond, sent a fresh ripple of unease skating down her spine. He looked every inch the haughty aristocrat in his severe black jacket and crisp linen, the only hint of whimsy a rich crimson vest that strained flatteringly across his broad chest.

At the soft sound of their entrance, Hugh pivoted slowly, his expression unreadable. A tense silence stretched between them until, at last, Jennifer cleared her throat pointedly.

"Your Grace," she greeted with a shallow dip of her head, eyes twinkling archly as she inserted herself into the fraught tableau. "We are honored by your presence this fine day."

"Thank you, Lady Notley," he responded and inclined his head in a curt nod of acknowledgment before his inscrutable stare found Harriet once more. She lifted her chin beneath the weight of that piercing regard, refusing to be the first to break the brittle impasse.

At length, Hugh heaved a barely perceptible sigh, shifting his weight in a gesture of uncharacteristic discomfiture. "Lady Harriet," he rumbled, the rough timbre seeming to reverberate through the very air between them. "I hope ye"ll accept me gratitude for extending this... renewed opportunity."

Harriet blinked, startled by the almost deferential note underlying his words. Was that contrition she detected woven through the gruff utterance? They made their way towards the waiting carriage together. Hugh helped them into the carriage first before climbing in too.

The carriage was quiet until they reached the gardens of Hyde Park - and for the first part of the promenade, the silence reigned supreme. It was Hugh who broke the tense silence, speaking rather suddenly, and Harriet looked at him with lifted brows when the deep timbre of his voice suddenly sounded out.

"I must make one matter plain from the outset," he stated, clipped brogue scraping across her senses. "This... courtship is motivated by necessity, nae ardor. A means to an end, that end being the preservation of yer standing in the eyes of the ton by way of a respected marriage match. Nay more, nay less."

The stark words seemed to reverberate through the garden. Beside her, Jennifer stiffened almost imperceptibly, but Hugh merely leveled them both with a challenging look.

"I... daenae know if ye hoped for romance and tenderness to precipitate such matters," he went on, pulling no punches. "But I"ll nae deal in falsehoods or airy sentiments to that effect. So long as we share the same understanding—this arrangement trades solely on pragmatism, propriety, and the occasional pretense for public consumption— I"ve nay qualms movin" forward. Should you require more...that I cannot provide."

His mouth curved faintly at the corners, hinting at a wry amusement that fired Harriet"s temper despite her attempts to smother it. Rather than rising to the bait, however, she surprised them both by arching one eloquently dismissive brow. Surprisingly, she felt an ounce of relief flooding her.

"Well, that was certainly...unvarnished," she murmured, bestowing him with a look of lofty condescension. "I must admit, Your Grace, your flagrant disregard for diplomacy is almost impressive in its dogged persistence."

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet caught the faint twitch of her mother"s lips as Jennifer gamely fought to suppress her amusement. Emboldened, she took a measured step forward, refusing to be cowed by his towering presence.

"And while I can certainly appreciate your noble transparency in casting our... circumstances in such stark terms, I fear your proposal..." her mouth curved with sardonic relish over the word "...leaves something to be desired, sir."

Hugh inclined his head a fraction in a silent prompt for her to elaborate. Taking a fortifying breath, Harriet pressed on.

"As direct as you have been," she admitted, "and as much as I respect you for it... I cannot bring myself to accept entering an alliance without knowing the full measure of you first - and I do suspect that the reverse holds true as well."

Hugh frowned at this, seemingly nonplussed by her words, and Harriet continued, her voice clear.

"I understand your... condition," she said at last. "And I will not pretend that I am not relieved by knowing that you share my doubts about this marriage. It does not trouble me, Your Grace, that you do not feel as though you are able to offer me love. But... I do believe that we still need to know each other better."

Hugh remained quiet, though his lips curled a bit at the ends - encouraging her to continue her rant. "I propose," she said now, "that we embark upon a period of proper courtship. Let us say... a week? This will give us an opportunity to acquaint ourselves with one another."

She came to a halt and looked at him earnestly.

"As much as this marriage will salvage our reputations, we must... we must determine if this path is the right one. If we see within the week that we will be unable to get along cordially, then it might be prudent to reconsider."

Even as she spoke the words, fear threatened to consume Harriet. What if, she could not help but think, they learned that they truly did not possess the inability to get along? Would she be faced with the rest of her life on Aunt Mildred's estate? The thought was nearly too much to bear, and she reached for her mother's hand in a quiet request for support.

Hugh still did not say anything. He merely looked at her, his eyes narrowed and the faintest shadow of a smile playing around his lips. Harriet swallowed nervously, forcing herself to look at him and remain steadfast in her suggestion.

It was Jennifer who broke the silence, pointing at a rose bush nearby. "Oh, is that not lovely?" she said loudly, making her way towards the roses quickly - Harriet and Hugh in tow.

Only after a few seconds of staring at the flowers did Hugh speak.

"All right," he let out with a grunt. "It may be an... unorthodox bargain and I admit that I am nae used to being challenged in the least, but..." he sighed and shook his head. "I'll admit, ‘tis nae without a certain practicality. Seven days."

Harriet turned to face him and he smiled - though she could not help but think that it looked as though the motion pained him. "Seven days to suss out whether this is a path that can be traversed without us coming to outright blows."

Harriet nodded, a stiff grin forming around her own lips. At least, she mused quietly, he was willing to compromise. To listen to her. That already proved that all was not entirely lost - that perhaps, a marriage to him would not be the worst thing in the world.

"Very well then," Harriet said briskly, favoring the dour Scot with a smile of polite beneficence. "Shall we continue on our promenade, Your Grace? Perhaps it will be the first step towards getting to know one another."

Hugh inclined his head in a shallow bow of acquiescence. "After ye, Lady Harriet." As she swept past him towards another row of flowers, his low rumble caressed her senses with indecent intimacy. "I fear I must warn ye, my lady..."

Harriet came to a halt and turned to look at him, her brows lifted. "Yer reputation," he said at last. "I believe that... we must..."

He looked around uncomfortably. All around them, people were staring and he gestured towards them with a sigh.

"Ye see we are already rather widely discussed. I fear that ye must know... Despite me title, I am nae the most..."

He sighed deeply.

"I daenae know that an association with me will be the best idea for yer reputation, I am afraid. I must admit..."

Harriet stepped forward firmly and searched his eyes, her face earnest.

"Your Grace," she spoke, her voice clear. "I suggest you mind your reputation, and I will mind my own."

Hugh's laugh rumbled through his chest and soon a soft laugh bubbled up from Harriet"s throat as well. Fine lines appeared next to his eyes as he looked down at her. "Charming, me lady," he teased with a low chuckle - forcibly reminding Harriet of how that rich, gruff laughter managed to stir her senses in a most unsettling fashion.

Shaking her head as if to physically dislodge such a discomfiting notion, she straightened her shoulders and led the way into the spring sunshine—her mother"s soft laughter trailing them like a soothing balm in her wake.

As the unlikely trio set out on their promenade through the verdant pathways winding around the Hyde Park, Harriet braced herself for an almost oppressive silence. Hugh did not seem the sort to engage in idle chitchat, and she herself had no intention of prompting needless conversation just to fill the void with prattle.

Instead, she focused her senses outward, basking in the gentle beauty of nature as a welcome distraction. The heady perfumes of new blossoms perfumed the crisp breeze with a rich, floral sweetness, songbirds warbling their joyous melodies from the budding branches overhead. Despite the weight of tensions still lurking beneath the surface, Harriet felt herself relaxing by infinitesimal degrees with each passing stride.

It was her mother, ever the gracious hostess, who eventually put an end to the silence.

"It's beautiful, this park," Jennifer said, then looked at Harriet. "Your father brought me here quite often."

Her gaze shifted to Hugh, whose lips were pursed. He did not notice, Harriet thought, the beauty of the park around them. Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead.

"I met your parents here too, Your Grace," Jennifer spoke softly and Hugh turned quickly to face her. She flashed him a gentle smile. "The love between them was truly something to behold."

"Yes," Hugh stuttered, his gaze wavering as he blinked quickly. "Yes, it was," he said, his voice soft.

Jennifer shot Harriet a stern look and the latter hastened her steps to walk next to Hugh, her mind empty as she searched for any form of conversation.

"The park is beautiful," she said at last and Hugh looked at her with a frown. She laughed softly and shook her head. "Your Grace," she explained softly. "I do believe we need to at least attempt to have a conversation if we are going to get to know each other," she explained and the man sighed.

"Yes," he agreed at last, and a deep laughter rumbled from him. "The park is rather beautiful indeed."

Harriet's clear laughter rang through the park and Hugh looked at her, almost somewhat surprised. Noticing the look on his face, Harriet looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"What is the matter, Your Grace?"

Her voice was terse and Hugh shot her a cheeky grin.

"Nothing, me lady," he said, almost in a teasing manner. "I was just surprised to hear ye laugh so freely. I thought ye were always a bit of a firecracker."

Harriet froze for just a minute, then rewarded him with a stiff smile. "You will be surprised, Your Grace," was all she said and he laughed softly.

Perhaps, Harriet thought hesitantly, they would be able to not entirely kill one another.