‘You promised to marry me, hoping your mother would die?’ She stared back in horror. ‘I promised to meet you. Nothing more. If my mother had died that night, as it appeared she might, who was to know what I promised her? But she lingered.’He waved the paper. ‘Obviously long enough to post an invitation. And now here you are. With a maid, I presume ?’
‘Ahhh…no.’ She struggled with the answer. It was as she’d feared. He must think she was beyond all sense, traveling unchaperoned to visit strangers. ‘She was taken ill and was unable to accompany me.’ As the lie fell from her lips, she forced herself to meet the duke’s unwavering gaze.‘Surely, your guardian…’‘Unfortunately, no. She is also in ill health, no longer fit to travel.’ Gwen sighed convincingly. Lady Danbury was strong asan ox, and had sworn that it would take a team of them to drag her back into the presence of the duke’s mother.‘And you travelled alone? From London?’ He asked curiously..‘On the mail coach,’ she finished. ‘I rode on top with the driver. It was unconventional , but not improper.’And inexpensive.‘And when you arrived in ThornHill ?’‘I was surprised that there was no one to meet me. I inquired the direction, and I walked.’‘Four miles? Cross-country? In the pouring rain?’ He asked in confused amazement‘After London, I enjoyed the fresh air.’She need not mention the savings of not hiring a gig.‘And you had no over exposure of air of air, riding for hours on the roof of the mail coach?’ He was looking at her as though she was crack-brained.‘I like storms.’ It was an outright lie, but the best she could do. Any love for storms that she might have had had disappeared when the rain permeated her petticoat and ran in icy rivers down her legs.‘And do you also like reproach ?’ She bowed her head again, no longer able to look him in the eye. It had been a mistake to come here. Her behavior had been improper, but she had not been trying to compromise herself. In walking to the house, she had risked all, and now, if the duke turned her out and she had to find her own way home, there would be no way to repair the damage to her reputation.He gestured around the room. ‘You’re miles from the protection of society in the company of a pair of notoriousWomanizers .’‘Notorious?’ She compared them. The duke looked dangerous enough, but it was hard to believe his brother was a threat to her honour.‘In these parts, certainly. Does anyone know you’re here?’‘I asked direction of a respectable gentleman and his wife.’‘The man, so tall?’ The duke sketched a measurement with his hand. ‘And plump. With grey hair. The wife: tall, lean as a rail. A mouth that makes her look—’ he pulled a face ‘—a little too respectable.’She shrugged. ‘I suppose that could be them. If he had spectacles and she had a slight squint.’‘And when you spoke to them, you gave them your real name?’ She stared back in confusion . ‘Why would I not?’The duke sank into a chair with a groan. His brother let out a whoop of laughter.The duke glared. ‘This is no laughing matter, you nincompoop. If you care at all for honour, then one of us is up a creek.’Archie laughed again. ‘By now you know the answer to the first part of the statement. It would lead you to the answer to the second. I suppose that I could generously offer—’‘I have a notion of what you would consider a generous offer. Complete the sentence and I’ll hand you your head.’He ran fingers through his dark hair. Then he turned slowly back to look at her. ‘Miss…whatever-your-name-is…’ He fumbled with the letter, reread it and began again. ‘Lady Gwen Lewis . Your arrival here was somewhat…unusual. In London, it might have gone unnoticed. But ThornHill is small, and the arrival of a young lady on a coach, alone, is reason enough to gossip. In the village you spoke with the Reverend Noah and his wife, who have a rather unchristian love of gossip and no great fondness for this family.When you asked direction to this house, where there was no chaperon in attendance, you cemented their view of you.’‘I don’t understand.’Archie smirked. ‘It is no doubt now well known around the town that the duke and his brother have reconciled sufficiently after the death of their mother to share a concubine.‘There is a chance that the story will not get back to London, I suppose,’ the duke said with a touch of hope.Which would be no help. Because of her father, London was still too hot to hold her. If she had to cross out ThornHill too… She sighed. There was a limit to the number of counties she could be disgraced in, and still have hope of a match.Archie was still amused. ‘Mrs Noah has a cousin in London. We might as well take out an ad in The Times.’The duke looked out of the window and into the rain, which had changed from the soft and bone-chilling drizzle to a driving storm, complete with lightning and high winds.‘There is no telling the condition of the road between here and the inn. I dare not risk a carriage.’The look in his eyes made her wonder whether he expected her to set off on foot. She bit back the response forming in her mind, trying to focus on the goal of this trip. A goal that no longer seemed as unlikely as it had when Lady Danburyfirst suggested it.‘She’ll have to stay the night, Marcus. There’s nothing else for it. And the only question in the mind of the town willbe which one of us had her first.’She gasped in shock at the insult, and then covered her mouth with her hand. There was no advantage in calling attention to herself, just now. Judging by the duke’s expression, he would more likely throw her out into the storm than apologize for his brother’s rudeness.Archie slapped his brother on the back. ‘But, good news, big bro. The solution is at hand. And it was our mother’s dying wish, was it not?’‘Damn the woman. Damn her to hell. Damn the reverend. And his pinched-up shrew of a wife. Damn. Damn!’Archie patted his apoplectic brother. ‘Perhaps the reverend needs to explain free will to you, Authur. They are not the ones forcing your hand.’The duke shook off the offending hand. ‘And damn you as well.’‘You do have a choice, Authur. But ThornHill ?’ The title escaped Archie lips in a contemptuous puff of breath.‘It is ThornHill who does not. For he would never choose common sense over chivalry, would he, Authur?’The duke’s face darkened. ‘I do not need your help in this, Archie.’‘Of course you don’t, your Grace. You never do. So say the words and get them over with. Protect your precious honour. Waiting will not help the matter.’The duke stiffened, then turned towards Gwen, his jaw clenched and expression hooded, as if making a great effort to marshal his emotions. There was a long pause, and she imagined she could feel the ground shake as the statement rose out of him like lava from an erupting volcano. ‘Lady Gwen, would you do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage?’But that’s ridiculous.’ It had slipped out. That was not supposed to be the answer, she reminded herself. It was the goal, was it not, to get her away from scandal and properly married? And to a duke. How could she object to that.She’d imagined an elderly earl. A homely knight. A baron lost in drink or in books. Someone with expectations as low as her own. Not a duke, despite what Lady Danbury had planned. She had mentioned that the Duke of ThornHill had a younger brother. He had seemed the more likely of the two unlikely possibilities.And now, she was faced with the elder brother. A very unhappy and impatient man. He was definitely more than she bargained for.‘Do you find my proposal ridiculous?’The duke was staring at her in amazement.She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. It isn’t ridiculous. Of course not. Just sudden. You surprised me.’She was starting to babble. She stopped herself before she was tempted to turn him down and request that his brotheroffer instead.‘Well? You’ve go
Correspondence from Archie, your beloved son. Each letter beginning, ‘Dearest Mother…’Authur marvelled at his brother’s ability to lie with a straight face and no tremor in the script from the laughter as he’d written those words. But Archie had no doubt been asking for money, and that was never a laughing matter to him.No bundle of letters from himself, he noticed. Not that the heart warming letters he was prone to send would have been cherished by the dowager.Letters from the lawyers, arranging estate matters. She’d been well prepared to go when the time had come.And, on the bottom, a small stack of letters in a heavy, cream envelope .Dearest Andrea,It has been many years, nearly forty, since last we saweach other at Miss Farthing’s school, and I havethought of you often. I read of your marriage to the lateduke, and of the births of your sons. At the time, I’dthought to send congratulations, but you can under-stand why this would have been unwise. Still, I thoughtof you
Lady Danbury would have been overjoyed, she was sure. The hardest part of the plan had always been the cooperation of the son. The dowager could be forced, but how would she gain the cooperation of the son without revealing all? Lady Danbury had hoped that one or the other of the two men was so hopelessly under the thumb of his mother as to agree without question when a suitable woman was put before him. But she’d had her doubts. If the sons were in their mother’s control, they’d havebeen married already.To stumble into complete ruin was more good fortune than she could hope for. She smothered her rising guilt. The duke had been right. She’d achieved her purpose and should derive some pleasure from it. She was about to become the lady to a very great, and very dirty, estate. She was about to marry a duke, the heart desire of every young girl of the country. And have his heir.She sat down on the edge of the bed. That was the crux of the problem. To have the heirs, she would have to b
‘Over ten years, ma’am.’ Parton saw the look in her eyes and grinned. ‘We’ve changed the linen since, I’m sure.’‘Of course,’ she said, shaking herself for being a goose.‘And her Grace died…?’‘In childbed, ma’am. His Grace was quite broken up about it, and swore he’d leave the house to rot on its foundation before marrying again. He’s been on the continent most of the last ten years. Stops back once or twice a year to check on the estate, but that is all.’Gwen leaned back in her chair and gripped the arms.The picture Lady Danbury had painted for her was of a man who had grieved, but was ready to marry again. But he hadn’t expected her. Hadn’t wanted her. Had only agreed to a meeting to humour his dying mother.No wonder he had flown into a rage.She should set him free of any obligation towards her. Perhaps he could lend her some coach fare back to London. Her Prospects were black, but certainly not as bad as attaching herself to an unwilling husband. She wasn’t that desperate Do
The Reverend was shaking his head slowly as Authur passed the explanatory letter to him. ‘As you can see, I was just writing to you to invite you to the house so we could resolve this situation.’ His lips thinned as he fought to contain the rest of the thought."Of course I needn’t have bothered.You hitched up the carriage and were on your way here as soon as the sun rose. Cometo see the storm damage, have you, Reverend? Meddling old fool. You’ve come to see the girl and you’re hoping for the worst".The Reverend looked sympathetic, but couldn’t disguise the mischievous smile as he spoke. ‘Most unfortunate. A most unfortunate turn of events. Of course, you realise what your duty is in this situation, to prevent gossip in the village and to protect the young lady’s reputation.’A duty that could have been prevented yesterday, if you actually cared a jot for the girl or for silencing talk.‘Yes,’ he responded mildly. ‘I discussed it with Gwen yesterday and we are in agreement. It only
‘Why not, Authur? She is never far from my mind. Just because you wish to forget her does not mean that I will.’ He flexed his hands and pushed away the image of them closing on Archie’s windpipe, and then placed them carefully on the table. ‘You promised a truce and I see how quickly you forget it. Let us pretend for a moment, Archie, that you have any honour left as it pertains to this house.’‘Very well, brother. One last game of “Let’s Pretend”, as we played when we were little. And what are we pretending, pray tell?’‘That you are planning to go willingly from this house, today, and that it will not be necessary for me to have the servants evict you.’‘Go? From this house? Why ever would I do that, Authur?’ ‘Because you hate it here as much as I do. And you hate me. There. There are two good reasons. I must remain here to face what memories there are. As you are quick to point out to me, whenever we are alone, I am the Duke of ThornHill . And now I am to be married, and chances a
Gwen stood at the back of the chapel, waiting for the man who was to seal her future. When the knock had sounded at her door, she’d expected the duke, but had been surprised to see Archie, holding a small bouquet out to her and offering to accompany her to the chapel. The gown she’d finally chosen for the wedding was not the silk, but her best day dress, and, if he thought to make a comment on the state of it, it didn’t show. It had looked much better in the firelight as she’d altered it. Here in ThornHill, in the light of day, the pitiable state of it was plainly apparent to anyone that cared to look. The hem of Lady Danbury’s green cotton gown had been let down several inches to accommodate her long legs, and the crease of the old hem was clearly visible behind the unusually placed strip of lace meant to conceal it. The ruffles, cut from the excess fabric of the bodice when she’d taken it in, and added to the ends of the sleeves, did not quite match, and the scrap of wilted lace at
She was still shaking with mingled passion and panic. How dare he? In a church! In front of the reverend! And she had responded like a cheap whore. If the kiss had been some sort of test of her experience, she’d probably confirmed hisworst fears. Her empty stomach groaned and she covered her mouth, afraid to look at the reverend’s wife unless she be sick on the marble floor. It would only have made the situation worse.And her husband would not have noticed. He was already striding out of the chapel and down the hall, following Archie at a safe distance, probably to make sure that he was headed towards the stables and away.She straightened her back and turned to the reverend and his wife, forcing a smile to her face. ‘Well.’ The word was arti-ficially cheery. ‘I must thank you, Reverend Noah, and Mrs Noah, for your concern in the matter of my safety and honour.’‘Hmm. Well, of course, the concern continues, your Grace.’For a moment she looked around, expecting to see her husband b