He tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I owe you an apology, Miss Miles. I have been wrong in my assessment of the Afflicted, and you have opened my eyes to that. As you once pointed out to me, having the capacity to commit a crime and the intention to do so are two different things.”
She stared at him. While she had expected him to say many things, an apology was not one of them. “Thank you, my lord, for admitting that. It does ease my concerns somewhat. But there is another delicate matter. I most likely could never provide you with an heir.”
Hannah dropped her gaze, unable to look at him while raising such an issue, or rather the lack of issue. Silence was her only answer, until she glanced up to ensure he was still in the room.
He had fisted his hand and then uncurled his fingers against his leg. “I have considered my own circumstances, and believe it may be for the best if I do not have offspring. Ours would be a marriage in name only, should you accept my offer. Or is the prospect too horrifying?” He stood and tucked his hands behind him.
Her insides rolled, but now that she had spent a few days in careful consideration, she no longer found the idea of marriage to him horrifying. The loss of her dream of a love match and children saddened her, but she had always been a practical person. Her father was right: The man before her might be abrupt, but he was also honourable. He had shown that he could treat her as an equal, and did not expect her to submit to his ideas. Nor, it appeared, would she have to submit to his person.
Could a tolerable match grow from such small origins? “It would be a fortuitous marriage for you, my lord. If both my mother and I are deceased, you will inherit my father’s entire estate, which I believe will be sufficient to revive the fortunes of yours. Once I died, you would be legally able to set me aside and find yourself a more fertile wife, such as Lord Albright did.”
He ground his jaw and his nostrils flared. “You would compare me to that shallow creature? Do you consider me so scheming and devious that I would do this solely for financial advantage?”
Did his motives matter? Money, honour, boredom. What did she care? The end result would still be the same. Hannah’s shoulders slumped as she contemplated the years ahead. Years of forced proximity and stilted conversation over tea until death finally released them. If she were lucky, perhaps he would take a portion of the funds and retire to his country estate.
It doesn’t have to be like that, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. What if they could find common ground? She had seen him smile and it stole her breath. He had shown moments of genuine kindness to her. His touch warmed her like no other had done. What if those aspects were nurtured to grow into something marvellous?
If she dared to take a chance, what might she reap in return?
Like any woman, she still had her pride. With a decision made, she straightened her back and met his gaze. “I will accept your offer of marriage, with one stipulation. Should my parents find a cure for the Affliction and reverse my condition, you will grant me a divorce and renounce any claim to my father’s estate.”
He nodded curtly. “Very well.”
He held out his hand and she took it. With one handshake, her future was sealed.
The next day, Hannah visited Lizzie and her mother, who were finalising the last few details before the society wedding of the year. Hannah stared at the gilt-edged invitation in her hand. The names blurred as the letters changed places, as though they sought to spell out a different name. The E kept running to the edge of the heavy paper, chased by the wayward H from Harden.
“Whatever is the matter, Hannah? You have been staring at that invitation for at least fifteen minutes. Have we spelt someone’s name wrong?” A faint frown pulled at Lizzie’s fair brow.
Oh, drat. Weddings were much on Hannah’s mind, but not the wonderful society event being planned here like a military campaign. A far more hurried and private nuptials loomed on the horizon.
“I—” No, that didn’t seem right. It had not been her decision. “We—” That didn’t fit, either. “It has been decided—”
“Whatever is worrying you, Hannah? It is unlike you to be so distracted,” Lady Loburn said from the end of the table.
Hannah set aside the engraved square and laid her hands flat in her lap. Better to confess and have the news out in the open. It was hard enough to keep one secret from Lizzie; she could not hold in two. “I am to marry Viscount Wycliff.”
“No!” Lizzie’s voice wailed like a cold wind through a graveyard. Her friend’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and her jaw dropped. “Oh, Hannah, he hasn’t compromised your virtue, has he?” Her friend’s voice dropped to a whisper on the word virtue.
“No, perish the thought! It is nothing like that. Father’s arrest and incarceration was a most worrying time for us, and highlighted the tenuous position of our family.” Hannah chose her words carefully. Never would she burden her friend with the knowledge that her gift would be the cause of her death.
While her heart still ached at her mother’s betrayal, Hannah had to agree with her parents. The marriage might give them protection, but it also ended her daydream of marrying a man who made her heart and mind race. Lord Wycliff certainly raised her pulse, but usually in agitation or anger.
“Viscount Wycliff has offered the protection of his name to me, and promised that he will always have a care for Mother and me.” The words weighed heavily on Hannah, as though she had been selected as the sacrifice to appease some demon.
Lizzie glanced from her mother to her best friend. If she didn’t stop frowning, she would mar her brow before the wedding. “But you do not love him, do you?”
Hannah let a sad sigh blow through her body. She loved her friend dearly, but they lived such different lives. “No, I do not love him, but I have found much to admire in him. On closer acquaintance, I have discovered him to be a man of both intelligence and integrity.”
“This cannot go ahead, Mother. Hannah must marry for love and you must tell Lady Miles so.” Lizzie turned to her mother, expecting her to the fix the problem, one mother to another.
Lady Loburn stared at Hannah for a long minute, and then turned to touch her daughter’s hand. “You, my child, were blessed by angels on the day of your birth, and have lived a charmed life. But not all women live the fairy tale of falling in love with a dashing duke. Most, like Hannah and myself, make do with what life sends our way.”
The frown deepened on Lizzie’s forehead. “I know not every woman can marry a duke, Mama, but the least Hannah deserves is affection from her husband.”
Under the table, Hannah dug her nails into her palms. She refused to cry. Lord Wycliff have proven himself capable of intelligent conversation and had acted honourably in clearing her father’s name. Perhaps it might be too much to hope that affection could one day grow between them. But if a stitched-together man and a severed hand could take up residence in their house, anything could happen.
Lady Loburn gathered up the completed invitations. “I think it is a good match. Hannah will be a gentling influence on the viscount, and I believe he will embolden Hannah. While he is not a wealthy man, from all accounts neither is he a wastrel. The two of them will make do. And, you know, there is nothing wrong with being styled Lady Hannah Wycliff. It sounds rather well, I think.”
Hannah was grateful for Lady Loburn’s understanding of the situation, although intrigued by how she had made do with the marquis. Not for the first time, Hannah wondered why her friend did not favour either of her parents in looks. “While I am mindful that life intended me for spinsterhood, Lizzie, your mother is right. This is a good match. Besides, Mother has promised that if he proves to be a cruel husband, she will turn him into a goldfish.”
Lizzie pouted and then a smile broke over her face. “Lady Wycliff! Once you are married, I can tell you all my scandalous secrets. When we go to the country, we can invite you both, and Harden can take Wycliff out shooting or something.”
“See, every cloud has a si
lver lining. There is much we can do together as two old married women.” Hannah managed to find a smile, if not for herself, then for her friend. The duke had a large enough country estate that Hannah could stay for a month and never set eyes on her soon-to-be husband save at dinner.
“La! Won’t it be marvellous if we have daughters at the same time, to continue the friendship we and our mothers have.” Lizzie beamed and clapped her hands.
Hannah bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. There would be no children from her body, but she could share in the joy of motherhood if it blessed her friend and lavish her love upon them.
Lizzie rose from her seat and flung her arms around Hannah. “If Hannah cannot marry for love, then she can still have a wedding full of love. We will arrange it, won’t we, Mother?”
Lady Loburn beamed. “Yes, of course. Hannah will be surrounded by her friends and family, who care for her deeply. She does not make this journey alone.”
On a dreary morning, a small group assembled in the modest chapel where Reverend Jones had attempted to send Lady Jessope back to her God. This time there were more bodies to fill the pews. Lizzie and Lady Loburn insisted on being present, and would not allow Hannah to wed without her closest friend to attend her.
Lady Miles and Lady Loburn sat side by side and chatted as though they were both young girls again. The household staff sat behind them. Mary was actually speaking to the imposing figure of Frank, having recovered from her shock at the man’s appearance. Timmy sat with Old Jim and his grandson, Young Jim. Barnes sat on Timmy’s lap, the boy’s hand holding tight to the leash.
“Are you ready, my dear?” her father asked Hannah as they stood on the porch.
No, she wanted to cry before she bolted from the church.
But she would do this for her family, and because she had to trust that her mother knew something beyond her understanding. It seemed a lifetime ago when she had asked her mother why she had requested that Lord Wycliff be included at Lizzie’s engagement ball. Her mother had replied that he had to be in play in the chess match of their lives. Hannah only hoped the end result would be worth it.
Hannah wore the dark orange silk gown made for Lizzie’s wedding. Her friend had insisted she wear it today. In her dark hair rested her mother’s tiara with the pearl drop. A shawl in shades of orange and red was draped around her shoulders against the chill of the day.
“Yes, Papa, I’m ready.” Hannah rested her hand on her father’s forearm and the two of them walked down the aisle.
Lord Wycliff waited next to the reverend, with the Duke of Harden as groomsman. His black gaze locked on Hannah as she walked to meet him. His black attire was relieved only by the embroidery on his waistcoat, where flames licked at the edges much as they did the hem of her gown.
She was only vaguely aware of the words of the ceremony. She learned her about-to-be husband’s full name was Jonas Broughton Balfour, Viscount Wycliff. Soon the reverend turned to her and said the vows for her to repeat. Hannah never thought the word obey would be an issue, as she had been an obedient child and had no doubt she would prove an obedient wife. It was the word love that tasted dry in her throat. She stood before God and promised to love a man she hardly knew.
And yet, a tiny ember of hope burned inside her.
She offered her own silent prayer as he took her hand. Let us find some common ground between us to make the years ahead bearable.
Lord Wycliff said his vows and took her hands in his. They were warm against her chilled skin as he slipped the plain gold ring on her finger.
“You may kiss the bride,” Reverend Jones announced.
An awkward silence fell. Hannah stared at the man who was now her legal husband. Surely he wouldn’t kiss her? Would he?
Hannah thought she might expire on the spot. She had forgotten the last part of the ceremony. Then another thought tumbled into her mind. She was his wife and legally his property. He could do whatever he wished to her and she could not refuse.
Hannah glanced at her mother, hoping the mage was ready to turn the viscount into a goldfish if he took liberties with his new acquisition. She closed her eyes as he leaned forward and to her relief—and a tiny bit of disappointment—his warm lips brushed her cheek. The brief action made warmth bloom through her body. How unexpected. He hadn’t kissed her on the lips. Did that mean he didn’t wish to, or was he merely being polite?
Thoughts swirled in her mind as she took his arm. To the applause of her friends and family, and the pealing of the church bells, they walked down the aisle and out to the waiting carriage.
They returned to Westbourne Green, where the wedding breakfast was laid out in the large dining room at the house. Her father popped champagne and poured glasses for everyone, including the staff. Mary pressed one into the large hand of Frank, but he simply stood and stared at the bubbles.
Lord Wycliff stood awkwardly, his hands behind his back. “I have a gift for my bride.”
He held out a King Charles spaniel puppy with long silken ears. The dog had rich chestnut markings against a white coat. It squirmed in his grasp and its tail wagged back and forth.
“Oh! How marvellous.” Tears pricked behind Hannah’s eyes as she took the squirming pup and it licked her face.
“It is female, if that aids in selecting a name, and I can take no credit for her appearance. Your mother handed her to me on my way into the room.” His gift delivered, the viscount claimed a glass of champagne and stood to one side.
Hannah held the silken ball of fur and blinked back the tears. “I shall call her Bethsheba, or Sheba for short. In memory of Beth Warren and the other women who lost their lives to Lord Dunkeith’s madness.”
“A lovely tribute, dearest.” Lady Miles held out a glass of champagne to Hannah.
“I’ll take Sheba.” Timmy took the squirming puppy from Hannah.
With her friends and family gathered around her, Hannah enjoyed the meal, and they chatted long into the afternoon. At last it was time for Lizzie, Harden, and Lady Loburn to climb into their carriage and return to London.
It seemed the rest of the family, Barnes included, evaporated into the woodwork until Hannah sat alone with her husband in the parlour. Or not entirely alone, since the puppy appeared to have gone to sleep on her feet.
Hannah contemplated her first night as a married woman. This had all come about because her mother had revealed a terrible secret. Now only one lingered in the room.
“As we embark upon our married life, my lord, I believe you have me at a disadvantage.” Hannah curled her hands into her skirts, fisting the delicate fabric to steady her nerves.
“How so, Lady Wycliff?” Black eyes turned to her.
Lady Wycliff. Her heart and mind froze. Her mother had used magic to pause her in time, but two words from the viscount could turn her to stone. She was now his wife, until death parted them. Would he truly prove honourable and stand by her even if her mother’s magic failed? Or, if she became one of the Afflicted, would she become like the late Lady Albright—set aside and existing on what charity she could find?
She cleared such thoughts from her mind. “You are privy to my secret, but I do not know yours.”
“No. You do not.” He rose from his seat. “As you are aware, this is a marriage in name only, so I will say good night.” He strode from the room without another word.
Hannah glanced down at the slumbering puppy. “It may be a marriage of convenience, but that doesn’t mean it is also a marriage of secrets.”
If her husband thought she would be so easily deterred, then he didn’t know her at all. She scooped up the sleepy Sheba and climbed the stairs to her room. A small green velvet cushion had appeared next to her bed and Hannah laid the spaniel on it.
After she had taken off her wedding clothes and donned her nightshift, Hannah climbed alone between the warmed sheets. She stared at her left hand and on impulse, removed the gold ring and held it to the light. As she turned it, she realised there were letters
inscribed within.
Together, beyond death.
The words sent a shiver over her skin, but was it from trepidation…or excitement at what lay ahead?
There was much more to her husband than there appeared. The smallest of smiles bloomed on her lips as she slid the wedding ring and its unseen promise, back on her finger.
* * *
THE END
The third instalment in Hannah and Wycliff’s journey together continues in GOSSIP and GORGONS…
About the Author
Tilly drinks entirely too much coffee, likes to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and wishes she could talk to Jane Austen. Sometimes she imagines a world where the Bennet sisters lived near the Hellmouth. Or that might be a fanciful imagining brought on by too much caffeine.
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Also by Tilly Wallace
Manner and Monsters
Manners and Monsters
Galvanism and Ghouls
Gossip and Gorgons
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Highland Wolves
Secrets to Reveal
Kisses to Steal
Layers to Peel
Souls to Heal
Galvanism and Ghouls Page 24
