“My sisters will be fine.”
Again, he rolled his eyes. “I was speaking of me. I do have a reputation to uphold. I am considered sober, judicious, a man of good standing, respected by my peers. In fact, I am known as the only duke not to bring scandal to the nobility. I have spent my entire life expunging my father’s reputation from society. I will not return my family to that level of shame.
She stopped pacing and examined him closely. He was being honest, he really was worried about his reputation. Ann slowly shook her head. How stupid could the man be?
“But, most of all,” he continued, “think of your family.”
Ann shook her head, “I told you, we will survive.”
His lips set into a firm line as he looked into her eyes. “Think what being my wife will mean for your sisters. London. A season. A dowry.”
A sharp gasp from upstairs reminded her that her sisters were hearing every word.
“But I can’t be a duchess,” she said as her mind tried to wrap itself around the idea. “I wouldn’t know how.”
He smiled slightly as he dipped his head. “Ann, Miss Stafford, you are beautiful, intelligent, kind, and possess a grace that few women come close to having. You can learn the rest.”
She bit her lip as she tried to put everything into some kind of order. Daniel wanted her to marry him. No, the Duke of Norwich wanted her to marry him. That was a completely different idea.
It seemed so wrong. They would not be marrying for love. Not really. It was simply a way to avoid societal embarrassment. On her part, it was a way to help her family move up the class structure. It all seemed so materialistic. Not as she had ever imagined her life going.
The thought saddened her. No love. Simply a contract between two people. But the man was right. What choice did she have? Wealth and security for her family. Or shame and public disdain.
“Very well,” she said as her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I will marry you.”
A loud squeal upstairs sent a sense of regret through her. This moment had been so unromantic. Where had the Daniel she knew disappeared to? He had reemerged as this stiff nobleman. What would it be like living with him?
Suddenly, the thought of the marriage bed flashed into her mind and her stomach tightened up into a knot.
No, she told him as she turned slightly so he would not see the sudden fear on her face. No, she wouldn’t think of that now.
He bowed formally at the waist and smiled slightly. “Thank you, Miss Stafford. I am sure we will do well together. In the meantime, I must be off, there are quite a few things I need to take care of.”
As he stepped towards the front door, she pulled herself together to see him out. Numb, she was completely numb. There was no other word for it.
“Until Tuesday, at the church. Ten, I should think,” he said as he stared down into her eyes.
All she could do was nod. He smiled slightly then leaned down and gently kissed her cheek.
Such a formal gesture she thought. Only a short time ago we had been locked in a passionate embrace.
But things had changed. Everything had changed.
Chapter Twelve
Ann slowly ran her hands down her fine silk dress and sighed. Three days of frantic activity, but the Countess’s seamstress had pulled it off.
Was this really happening? Of course, it was. The Earl of Brookenham was standing there waiting, ready to escort her down the aisle. That was a pretty sure sign that she was marrying the Duke of Norwich.
Her stomach tightened once again. It had been tied in a knot ever since that very same Duke of Norwich had informed her, she was getting married. That she had no choice in the matter.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart.
The Earl of Brookenham stepped forward and bowed slightly.
“I do apologize, Miss Stafford, I believe this is all my fault. If I had been more careful…”
Ann frowned, what was he talking about.
“It was me that informed Lady Clarice that a young woman had caught His Grace’s attention. I should have realized my error.”
He really did look contrite she thought and smiled gently up at him. “My Lord, I assure you. It was no fault of yours.”
No, it was her betrothed that she blamed. The man had deceived her. Willingly, and now she was to marry the man. Once again, the ill luck of the Stafford girls had proven true.
The door opened behind his Lordship. He smiled to her and held out his arm.
Ann took a deep breath. It was now or never. And as she had been informed, she really had no choice. Slipping her arm into his, she turned to enter the nave. A sudden fear filled her once again as she saw the people standing waiting for her. Half the village had turned out. It wasn’t every day they saw one of their own marry a duke.
His Grace, Lord Norwich stood by the altar. Tall, strong. Dressed in a black frock coat. Simple but noble. So typical she thought. The man looked like a duke for a reason. He was born to it.
Swallowing hard, she allowed Lord Brookenham to walk her down the aisle and hand her off to His Grace. She handed Lydia her bouquet and smiled weakly at the Vicar.
What would her father and mother think? Seeing this rushed affair. Seeing her married to a man that didn’t love her. It was so sad when you thought of it. So unnecessary. Oh, how she wished it could have been her Daniel, instead of this stranger.
True, they were the same man, but were they? Daniel, she understood. Daniel made sense. The Duke of Norwich was an unknown. A stranger in all reality.
The Vicar began the ceremony and her brain shut down. She looked down at his large hands clasping hers. Who was this man? What was she doing?
Just make it through the next few minutes she told herself. She would have the rest of her life to discern what it all meant. Just finish without making a fool of herself.
“You may kiss the bride,” the Vicar said and her heart squeezed tight. Lord Norwich leaned forward and chastely kissed her lips. So formal. So passionless. Was that to be her lot? A marriage in name only. The thought sent a shaft of sadness to her very center.
Sighing, she turned with him to leave the church. Her arm in his.
Everyone, rose. Smiling. As if this were a wonderful thing. Oh, how wrong it all felt.
My God, she was now the Duchess of Norwich. A lady. All because she had said a few words before God and these people. A sense of shame and trepidation filled her. How could this be? Her world was spinning out of control.
As they stepped out of the church, she saw a big black carriage waiting for them. Norwich’s coat of arm, two falcons and a sprig of holly topped with a coronet. No, her coat of arms, she realized. This man’s family was now hers.
“Are you sure it is acceptable to return to London immediately,” he asked with a stiff smile.
“I know we should have a reception. But I really must return. There is much I need to accomplish before word spreads of our marriage.
Her insides froze once again. What must he do that was so important? Had marrying her been that big of an inconvenience that they couldn’t spend time celebrating their marriage. Once again, she regretted the situation. But this was her new life.
She nodded. They had planned this. She should have been emotionally ready. But the thought of leaving everything she knew was terrifying.
“Let me say goodbye to my sisters.”
He nodded as he stepped back.
Lydia and Isobel were both first through the church door. They both pulled her into a deep hug.
“You two be good,” she said as she fought to hold back a tear.
Isobel laughed. “It is only a month or so then we are to join you in London.”
The Duke had decided that it would be best if they spent the first month of their marriage separate from her sisters. He, however, had kindly agreed that they should come to live with them shortly. Aunt Ester had still not made up her mind.
Norwich had assured her however that if her aun
t decided to stay. He would see to her wellbeing.
“I still can’t believe I am to have a season,” Lydia said with disbelief.
“Yes, well, be careful what you wish for.”
Lydia laughed and hugged her again.
Aunt Ester stepped forward and whispered into her ear, “Remember dear. The wedding night is the worst. It will get better. At least, that is what I am told.”
Ann’s insides squeezed tight. She refused to allow herself to think about the wedding night. No, she would remain focused on the next few minutes. Make it through the hour. That was all she could hope for.
Smiling at her aunt, Ann sighed heavily. Would her sisters be able to care for her adequately? Would she drift back to her confused state? And what if she refused to join them in London? So many questions. Such upheaval. All because she kissed a man in an orchard.
“Ladies,” the Duke of Norwich said with a slight bow. “I assure you, your sister will be fine. And you are to send word to the main estate immediately if you have any need. Is that understood?”
Both Isobel and Lydia nodded as they listened to their new brother-in-law.
His Grace, Lord Norwich smiled, then glanced at Ann, raising an eyebrow, as if asking if she were ready.
Ann sighed heavily. She hated goodbyes and this was why. They seemed so final. As if she were leaving a part of herself. But, again, what choice did she have? Nodding to him, she gave everyone a last hug then allowed one of the Duke’s men to hand her up into the carriage.
As he did, she glanced at the footman quickly. Dressed in gray livery with yellow piping and a powdered wig, the man looked like a caricature from the last century. But he smiled kindly at her and her heart relaxed just a little. Hopefully, the servants wouldn’t be against her.
Servants? She was to have servants. The thought seemed preposterous. How was she ever to deal with them?
Sighing, she tried to force the worry from her mind. It was just one of a thousand things she would discover, she realized.
Once she was settled with her back to the horses, she pulled back the curtain to wave goodbye. A fear settled over her, better to focus on what she was loosing than face her future. At least at the moment.
His Grace sat across from her and the carriage was off. A panic filled her as both Isobel and Lydia were lost from sight. What was she doing leaving them behind?
“They will be well,” His Grace said with a reassuring smile. “Brookenham will make sure of it. I assure you.”
Ann took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was so confident, so sure of himself and his future. Was this what happened to a person when they had every advantage in life. Or was he born this way? Was this him speaking or his title?
She would never know, she realized, the two were so wrapped up in each other it would be impossible to discern one aspect from the other.
“You never told me, Your Grace?” she began, deciding to keep their discussion light and non-personal. “Did you ever discover why Lord Brookenham’s estates were not performing well. After all, that was the entire objective, wasn’t it?”
She watched him closely to see how he would react. There was no flinch, no wince. However, his cheeks did turn the faintest shade of pink. Good, she thought. At least the man could feel some shame for what his deception had caused.
“Yes, in fact, I did,” he began. “A combination of poor farming practices, and a dishonest mill owner skimming off the profits. A fact Lord Brookenham’s agent should have been aware of.”
Ann could only shake her head. Her life. Her family’s life, changed all because some man she didn’t even know had stolen from Lord Brookenham. The world would never make sense.
“Well,” she said as she lifted her chin, “it is good that your subterfuge and deception was able to lead to a successful conclusion.”
This time he did wince as his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Ann …”
“I suppose I can’t ask you to call me Miss Stafford, can I. I do hope you don’t expect me to call you Daniel. It seems too wrong.”
He sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Ann,” he began once again with a determined look in his eye. “We must move beyond this… discord. We must both come to accept our fate and learn to deal with it if we are to find any contentment.”
A flash of anger began to rise inside of her. It seemed that anger was always there ready to flare up like a log full of pitch being tossed into the fire.
“Your Grace,” she began. “I assure you I have accepted my fate. That, however, does not necessarily lead to contentment. At least not for me.”
He sighed once again as he obviously realized she was not going to make his life easy. That theirs was not going to be a conflict-free existence. No, there was too much anger. Too much emotion to be ignored.
As he leaned back and closed his eyes, her heart broke. Why must they be like this? Formal, argumentative. If it had been Daniel sitting across from her would she have been so angry? Of course not.
But that was not her new reality. She was to be the wife of a man who did not love her. She was to be thrust into a world she knew nothing about. She would be judged and criticized on aspects she didn’t even know existed.
All, while he sailed through life, a privileged duke. A man without worry or concern.
And he didn’t love her. At its core, that was the problem she realized. Without that sense of love, how was she to make her way forward? It gave him all the power, she realized. He controlled everything. What did she have to offer? Nothing.
It all seemed so unfair. And so unlike the fairy tale she had always wished for.
.o0o.
Daniel, His Grace, the Duke of Norwich fought to hold back the anger building up inside of him. It isn’t her fault, he kept reminding himself. Never forget that. She didn’t deserve to be placed in this situation.
She had done nothing wrong. Not really. No, not his Ann.
That was the truth behind his anger. He was furious at himself for putting her in this situation. Or even more, his world, his culture forced him into an alliance with a woman who didn’t wish it.
Wrong, every facet of his being told him this was wrong. Ann should be allowed to lead her life as she saw fit. But once they arrived in London, things would change. Expectations, wants, needs. And all of it would be beyond her control.
It didn’t seem fair.
If only she had grown to know him as Daniel, If only she could continue to see the true him. But no, it had all been ruined.
He had planned on telling her that night. His trip to London had driven home the differences in their worlds. He couldn’t continue to keep her in the dark. Why hadn’t he simply stopped himself from dancing with her and told her the truth?
Because, once, just once in his life he wanted someone to care for him and not his title. He wanted to feel what it was like to hold a woman who wanted to be held by him. The true him.
And now, he had ruined everything. The way she had discovered the truth would hang over the both of them for the rest of their lives. She would never be able to trust him. Never again see him as an individual, but as a liar and deceiver.
She would never respect him, he realized with a sick feeling. Never look at him with admiration and love. No, to her, he would always be the man who had trapped her into a life she didn’t want.
The sadness and regret that filled him made him clench his jaw and turn to stare out the window.
No, he thought, he might have ruined her life. Or at least the life she had wanted. But he could make one promise. He would not make it worse. Under no circumstance would he ever make it worse. That was the least Ann deserved.
Chapter Thirteen
Ann craned around to watch London as the carriage made its way into the heart of the town. His Grace had been right. It did smell different. A combination of coal smoke, horses, and … something else.
It was the activity that surprised her the most. Coaches mixed wit
h taxis and pedestrians. Everyone moving so much faster as if they had somewhere to be. Something that must get done right away. The sense of speed and urgency was almost overwhelming.
Ann’s jaw relaxed as she focused on everything around her while she fought to take it all in. The fashion of the women. The large buildings. The murmur of a thousand different sounds. Would she ever understand it all? she wondered.
“Here we are,” His Grace said as the coach rocked to a halt in front of a giant white stone building. Ann gulped. Her new home. It looked big enough to host a dozen families.
The carriage door was opened and His Grace stepped down then held out a hand for her.
Ann took a deep breath and placed her gloved hand in his. Her body reacted to his touch as it always did. A tingle traveled up her arm and a wave of emotion washed over her. No, she thought. This isn’t Daniel, she reminded herself. This is the Duke of Norwich.
For over the last four hours, the two of them had ridden together and barely spoke. It was as if they had been trapped in their own individual prison cells. And now, they were to enter this grand home as man and wife. It seemed too farfetched to be real.
The massive front door was opened by a severe British butler. An older man, balding, with the beginning of a paunch. His brow was furrowed in confusion, but he stepped back and said, “Welcome home Your Grace.”
Ann shot him a quick look from beneath her brow. What was he thinking?
“Stevenson,” His Grace said as they stepped into the building. “May I present, my wife, Her Grace, the Duchess of Norwich.”
Ann almost gasped but was able to stop herself. Hearing him use her new title did something to her insides that she didn’t understand.
The butler frowned for just the briefest of moments, then caught himself and bowed at the waist. “Welcome, Your Grace,” he said.
Ann smiled gently until the butler turned on the Duke and said, “You should have informed us, Your Grace. We would have made the necessary preparations.”
Ann gasped, unable to believe that anyone could so openly criticize a duke.
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