Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

" C ongratulations, Your Grace," smiled a wrinkled, well dressed older woman. She eagerly took Arabella's hand in hers. "It was a beautiful ceremony." At her side, her grey-haired husband nodded emphatically.

Arabella did her best to make her smile look genuine. "Thank you very much for attending."

"Oh, we would not have missed it," the woman assured her. "Lord Lindley and I are most fond of weddings. Indeed, I believe it is because we enjoyed our own quite immensely," she added, shooting a loving look up at her husband.

Arabella's chest grew tight. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"We are lucky, indeed," said the woman's husband. Then, to Arabella's great relief, the couple made their way into the dining room, leaving her to greet the line of guests that waited for their own reception.

Arabella did not know where her new husband had gone off to. After arriving at the manor, he had disappeared entirely, returning shortly before the guests arrived to ask that she greet everyone as they entered the manor. Then, once again, he was gone.

As Arabella forced a smile back onto her face to greet the next couple in line, she silently hoped that her eyes bore no traces of the tears she had shed earlier this afternoon. Indeed, as soon as they had arrived and Jasper had abandoned her, Arabella had been shown to her new rooms. She promptly shut the door behind her and pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sobs which then overwhelmed her.

No children. That was what Jasper had said. What he had promised her.

He had given her no reasoning either, as to why he would not visit her at night. Arabella hardly knew what to think. Surely it was the one requirement of a duke that he provide his estate and title with an heir. If he did not, he was sure to be the source of gossip and pity – the duke who could not produce a child. Or, else, Arabella would be blamed for the inability to conceive.

And Jasper was willing to risk all of that in order to avoid a night in her bed? She did not know what to think but that he found her so unattractive – so disgusting – that he could not bear to make love to her.

While she had not been exactly looking forward to the experience – one she had been told would be more than a little painful on her wedding night – Arabella had been perfectly willing to fulfill such a duty. She had been willing to bear it for the sake of having children. For the sake of starting a family.

Even now, as Arabella allowed herself to be congratulated by another couple she only barely recognized, she fought off a fresh wave of tears. She would never have a family.

The one thing that had made the prospect of this marriage bearable had now been taken from her. And all she was left with was a distant husband whose only living family believed her to be the greatest mistake of his life.

"My dear!" Emily hurried forward to embrace Arabella, Peter, Madeline and Thomas close behind her.

"Careful Mama," Madeline warned, glancing around, "we must not be too ostentatious or else Lord Barrington will appear and scold us." The note of scorn in her voice was undeniable.

Her smile faltering, Emily released Arabella and took a step back. "Oh, yes, of course."

Arabella's heart ached to see the shame in her mother's eyes. This woman was the kindest, most thoughtful, compassionate person Arabella had ever known. And to think that a man they hardly knew had the power to stride into their lives and make Emily feel guilty for who she was and how she behaved made Arabella furious.

But she was powerless in this matter. Her new husband had married her to save her from scandal. And she had agreed to marry him for the same reasons. This was the life she had chosen, whether she liked it or not.

She could only hope now that the duke was nothing like his uncle. Though, from their conversation in the carriage, Arabella's did not have much hope.

"It was a lovely ceremony," Peter said, reaching out to take Arabella's hand in his. "You looked positively stunning, my girl."

"Thank you, Father."

Though she tried to muster her spirits, here, with her family, Arabella was finding it difficult. Though Peter frowned slightly, taking in his daughter's distress, he chose not to press her. Instead, he clapped his hands together and glanced behind him. "You will have many other guests to greet. Come alone everyone, we must let the duchess fulfill her new duties."

As they moved away, Peter winked at his daughter. "We will see you in a moment," he promised her.

Arabella nodded. She watched her family disappear into the dining room with more than a little dismay.

Finally, with all the guests greeted, Arabella was allowed to join the festivities of the wedding banquet. Inside the dining room, she spotted her new husband, deep in conversation with several other men on the far side of the hall. At her entrance, he raised his eyes to her, giving her only a brief nod before returning to his conversation.

Unsure of what to do next, Arabella thought briefly about seeking out her family. But, as Reginald stepped into view, eyeing her expectantly, she thought better of it.

She had no intention of speaking to the duke's uncle however. Searching the crowd, Arabella let out a small sigh of relief as she spotted Catherine. The meal had not yet begun and Arabella's friend was mingling with a few familiar faces before the guests were invited to take their seats.

Hurrying toward her, Arabella broke into a smile. "Catherine, I am so glad to see you."

As her friend turned to face her, however, Arabella noted that Catherine did not return her smile. "Arabella." She blinked at her as if she were surprised to see her. Then, shaking her head a little, she offered Arabella a small curtsey. "Or perhaps I should be more respectful, Your Grace," she added, "now that you are a duchess."

Arabella laughed, assuming that her friend spoke in jest. But, as Catherine continued to stare at her with complete sincerity, Arabella's smile faltered. "You hardly need do that, Catherine," she assured her. "You are my closet friend. I should be uncomfortable to have you address me so."

"Very well."

As Arabella opened her mouth to ask if everything was all right, a hush fell over the reception. Jasper's voice echoed around the room. "If I may have your attention," he said, "my wife and I would like to invite you to join us in our wedding feast."

He glanced over at her briefly, holding out his hand to Arabella in a subtle signal that she should join him. But, as she approached, he made no move to take her hand or embrace her in any way. In fact, as she stood beside him, he shifted, adding a little more distance between them.

Arabella glanced down to hide her dismay. A part of her had been hoping against hope that her husband might change his mind about visiting her bed. But if his behavior now meant anything, then he most certainly would not.

The guests began to applaud. Jasper then gestured for Arabella to follow him to the head of the table. As she took her seat beside him, she realized that her family had been seated almost halfway down the table. Frowning, she glanced around, assuming that there had been some mistake. She caught her mother's eye. Emily, looking a little confused, smiled weakly. "Your Grace –" Arabella began, but was cut off as Reginald began to inquire as to Jasper's conversation with the men earlier.

She turned back to her family, prepared to wave them over to the empty seats on her right but, as she did so, several other guests settled down beside her.

Helpless, Arabella realized it was now too late to rearrange the seating. She flicked a glance at her husband, distressed at such an obvious dismissal of her family. To all those invited, the snub would be evident. The duke did not feel that his wife's family were important enough to be seated with the newly married couple.

Angry and now feeling more alone than ever, Arabella forced herself to keep her composure. If this was how her husband was going to treat her, then she would not give him the pleasure of seeing how it affected her.

"Where are Lord Clement and his family seated?" Jasper asked in a low voice, leaning closer so that his uncle could hear.

In the seat beside him, Reginald shifted. "What do you mean?"

Jasper nodded to the guests now seated to his wife's right. "The family of the bride are meant to be at the head of the table with us."

Reginald frowned, confused. "Why yes, yes they are." He glanced up and down the banquet table. "How have they ended up down there?" he mused, and Jasper followed the man's gaze.

Sure enough, Lord Clement and his family were seated nearly halfway down the table, a great distance from where they should have been sat. Jasper winced. This would not do. To say that it was a slight to his bride would be an understatement. "We must move them, immediately," he murmured.

"I am afraid it is too late," Reginald countered, shaking his head sadly. "To draw attention to it now would only make matters worse. There must have been some misunderstanding. But I am sure they will understand," he added.

Though Reginald's assurances did little to assuage Jasper's guilt, his uncle was right. There was little that could be done about the matter now.

Jasper glanced over at his bride, now engaged in conversation with an older woman on her right. Though she was chatting away pleasantly, he could not help but wonder if he had been too hard on her earlier.

It was better that she learned the boundaries of their relationship sooner rather than later. But she had looked so defeated when he had told her to keep her distance.

That had been quite unexpected. He had assumed that a woman in her position – obligated to marry him in order to save her family's good name – would be grateful that he would not try and force himself on her in the name of marriage.

But she had looked…almost disappointed.

When Arabella glanced out over the table, her mask slipping for the briefest of moments, Jasper saw a look of apprehension cross her features. Briefly, he was struck by the impulse to put a hand on her arm. To test whether her touch truly had no effect on him.

Then, in the next moment, he recoiled at the very thought. He told himself that he was never going to be the duke that everyone wanted him to be. The duke that he should be. And, if he could not, then he was going to make certain that no one ever knew of his faults. No one would ever get close enough to find out.

"You should make a speech," Reginald informed him, pulling Jasper from his musings.

Nodding, Jasper cleared his throat. He wrapped a gloved hand around his glass as he stood. "If I may have your attention," he called out, raising his voice and glass as several of those in attendance turned to face him.

When the dining room had fallen silent, he continued. "I want to thank you all for helping us celebrate today. This occasion marks the joining of two households. Not only that, but the honoring of a new Duchess of Gysborne."

He turned to toast Arabella. "To new beginnings," he said.

Everyone at the table stood, holding their glasses out. But before they could repeat the toast, Reginald stood. "To the Duke of Gysborne and the continuation of his line," he said.

"To the Duke of Gysborne," everyone repeated, raising their drinks.

At his side, Jasper saw Arabella shoot Reginald a confused glance. Jasper gritted his teeth. Leave it to his uncle to bring up the continuance of the family line, excluding her from mention on her own wedding day.

He, as Arabella had been, was under the wrong impression. Jasper had no intention of having children. Not because he did not want them; there had been a time when he had wished for them greatly. No, it was simply because he could not father them. Not with his condition. It would be impossible.

But to get his uncle to give up the dream of an heir would be far more difficult than it was with Arabella. And that was not a conversation that Jasper was willing to have. No one, not even Reginald, could find out about the duke's weakness.

In time, when Jasper and Arabella failed to produce an heir, Reginald would have to give up such hopes. He would not know, of course, that Jasper and Arabella had not even tried to have a child. To Reginald and the rest of the ton , the couple would simply appear baren. Incapable of having children.

The banquet went on for several more hours. But, finally, Jasper found himself bidding the last of the guests goodbye. He did not know where Arabella had gone off to but, as Jasper glanced back down the hall, he spotted Reginald making his way toward the door.

"Well. The deed is done," his uncle murmured, staring out at the last guests who were now climbing into their carriage.

"Indeed."

"Where has your wife got to?"

"I am sure she is settling in somewhere. There will be much for her to do. Unpacking, meeting the servants, getting acquainted with the manor."

"She will need constant instruction," Reginald reminded him. "I saw how flagrantly her mother behaved when she arrived. You must watch out for her family. Do not been seen with them if you can help it."

Jasper was not in the mood to be lectured. "I will instruct my wife as I see fit," he growled, letting his irritation get the better of him.

Though Reginald eyed him suspiciously, he nodded. "I hope, in a few weeks, you will permit me to visit and at least observe how she is settling into her duties."

Gritting his teeth, Jasper opened the door a little wider. "We shall see. Good day, uncle."

The unspoken expectation was clear. And Reginald had no choice but to do as asked. After all, he was not the Duke of Gysborne. Jasper was. And, from time to time, Reginald needed to be reminded of that fact.

When his uncle finally took his leave, Jasper set about tracking down his wife. But when he made his way through the library, dining room, and drawing room without a glimpse of her, he was forced to ask the servants. But they, too, had not seen her.

On impulse, Jasper made his way upstairs toward Arabella's rooms. He was about to knock when a soft, muffled sob stilled his hand.

Jasper bent close to the door, his ear to the wood.

Arabella was crying. Though it was soft, the sound was unmistakable. Jasper frowned. His chest grew tight.

She was crying? What had she to be upset about? Had he not been the perfect gentleman to her? Had he not just promised to stay out of her bedroom and leave her to her own life, her own affairs?

Suddenly, Jasper felt the need to defend himself. He wanted to offer an explanation for his behavior.

Yes, that was what he would do. He would barge in there and show her that she had no right to blame him if she was upset with their arrangement. She had no right to be upset with, from what he could tell, was the best offer she was ever going to get.

But then, as Arabella's sobs quieted, Jasper thought better of it. Grimacing, he told himself that he was doing no good simply standing there.

After a moment more, Jasper retreated back downstairs. Still, he could not leave things as they were. He could not have Arabella unfairly blaming him for her unhappiness.

With this in mind, he sought out one of the household maids.

"Miss Margaret?" he called, pulling her attention from where she sat, polishing silverware at the kitchen table.

At his sudden appearance, the young woman shot to her feet. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"I am going to retire early for the night," he informed her. "But, if you would…keep an eye out for the duchess. She is new and will not know where things are. If she desires anything, you may provide it to her. Within reason, of course."

The girl dropped into a low curtsey. "Yes, Your Grace."

Jasper moved to go. There. Now Arabella would have no reason to despise him. Not that he cared. Why should he care what she thought of him?

"Congratulations, Your Grace," the girl hurried to add, "on your marriage."

Nodding, Jasper turned away, hiding his grimace. Congratulations indeed.