by Ella Edon
“I am fine,” his father panted. Jerome saw tears pricking the side of his eyes. “I am fine, so do not hover over me. It has been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to laugh like that.”
Blinking, Jerome returned reluctantly to his seat, Louisa giggling at his side. “It was quite joyous hearing you laugh, Your Grace.”
“Tell me, Louisa,” the duke leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Did you mention all that simply to suggest that we have a bit of fun tonight?”
“I did not know how else to bring it up,” she said, sounding a tad bit apologetic even with her smile. Jerome could only sit in awe. “Though now I understand why my father has always told me it is a virtue to be a little less dramatic. I nearly drove you to anger just then.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” the duke responded, waving his hand dismissively. Jerome might have been mistaken, but the duke seemed to be eating much more heartily. “A good laugh cures the soul, they say. I have you to thank for that. Now, do you happen to have anything in mind?”
“Certainly! I would not have suggested it otherwise.” Even so, she put a finger to her chin. “Perhaps a game of whist would be a perfect way for us to begin?”
“Oh? I take it you have more in mind?”
“Ideas are already flooding my brain, but I will not bore you with the details.” Then, she turned her attention to Jerome. His heart jumped when their eyes met, and he felt like he was a teenager all over again. “What do you think, Jerome?”
“I think,” he didn’t even have to think about it, “that someone needs to be around to keep you two in check.”
Louisa looked back at the duke with a smile. “That means he is eager to join in.”
Her simple translation did things to Jerome he couldn’t name. Now that he knew the truth of his feelings—even as they came over him so forcibly and so quickly that he hardly had any time to process them—Jerome couldn’t look at her the same. Every smile, every move, every flutter of her lashes and shift of her eyes was beautiful. Simple perfection.
In that moment, Jerome was so overwhelmed with the emotion that all he could do was sit there and ask himself if he was truly capable of doing this. Louisa might be his wife, but she wanted nothing to do with him in that capacity. She’d grown to like him, yes, but merely as a friend. She did not even want to touch him. How could he be in love with her?
But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. Extinguished it with the hope that bloomed within him. He would have to try at least, to make her love him. Jerome would not be satisfied with himself otherwise.
It didn’t take long for the Duke of Leinster to warm to her. It was a phenomenon that Louisa was used to, knowing she had the sort of personality that could draw anyone in when she so chose. She’d learned how to be confident from her mother. From Jerome, she was learning that sometimes it was better to simply be kind and understanding than to protect one’s pride.
Throughout dinner, she engaged the duke in conversation. He laughed heartily at the things she said, much to Jerome’s worry, and would ask her endless amounts of questions regarding her family and her upbringing. She didn’t miss the fact that the duke was quite dismissive of Jerome, and so she would never miss a chance to mention him or pull him into the conversation. She could tell that Jerome was touched by it, which made her happier than she’d expected.
It is nothing, she told herself as she swirled the wine in her glass. I am only returning his kindness. Even I understand that I do not need to be defensive and cold with him all the time.
Perhaps if she had remembered that earlier, she would have felt better.
They now sat in the parlor, the duke preparing a glass of wine for himself. Louisa took that moment to look at Jerome, watching as he stared at his father, clearly bothered. His concern for the duke had been apparent all night, which only filled Louisa with the urge to lessen his fears. If she could get him to relax, that would make the night much better than it already was.
“Father,” Jerome spoke, cutting into Louisa’s thoughts. “I do not think it wise for you to drink in your state.”
“I do not care what you think,” the duke said it simply, as if he was merely talking about the weather. He turned to face them again, a full glass of wine in his hand. At Jerome’s frown, Louisa felt bad for suggesting it in the first place. She’d only wanted to lighten the mood, but now she saw where she’d gone wrong.
I shouldn’t care.
Yet how could she not? It was not only about how Jerome felt. It was about the wellbeing of an elderly man in a sickly state. The duke joined them at the table near the center of the room, raising his glass to Louisa. “I congratulate you, Louisa, on your many wins.”
She lifted her own glass, refusing to look at Jerome. It would only make her feel worse. “Thank you, Your Grace. You did pose quite a challenge, however. I have no doubt that you would have beaten me had you been in better spirits.”
“My spirits are just fine, I assure you,” he responded, but the words didn’t ring true. All night he’d broken into fits of coughing and would wheeze for a few minutes before his breathing grew normal again. He might be able to leave his bed, but it came with a price. “I take it your father taught you how to play?”
“My mother,” Louisa corrected. “She is quite adept. I am never able to beat her.”
“I would like to try my hand with her one day, then.”
“I am certain she will love that.” Not liking Jerome’s silence, she looked up at him. He was staring into the bottom of his glass. “Jerome? Would you like to play a round with me?”
Jerome looked up at her. “Perhaps when we return home. I do not want to ruin your fun.”
“Nonsense—”
“He has said his piece,” the duke cut in. He swept the cards into one hand and placed them in a neat pile to the side. “Leave him be and let us continue.”
The swift dismissal had her anger rising and she grit her teeth. Louisa didn’t bother to question it this time. “You aren’t afraid he will beat you as well, Your Grace?” she asked, adopting a sickly-sweet tone.
The duke scoffed. “Jerome is better suited to focusing on other things.”
“Like what, for example?”
She could feel Jerome’s eyes on her, willing her to stop, but Louisa was already winding herself to let loose. An odd wave of possessiveness came over her as she waited for the duke to respond.
“His business, for one,” the duke said.
“What of his marriage?” she asked without hesitation. She continued to swirl her wine, not taking her eyes off the duke, who watched her just as closely. “He has taken very good care of me since I have become his wife. Not only is he caring, but he is quite fun, as well.”
“Louisa…”
She looked up at Jerome, noting the utter shock on his face. She understood the feeling. That same surprise was rushing through her like a wave, but she’d already said the words. She couldn’t take it back, nor did she want to. It was the truth, after all. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but Jerome had been nothing but gentle and understanding since she had agreed to marry him. Louisa was already beginning to feel a little bad for how she’d treated him before.
I will apologize for that later. But for now, let us end the night well.
She hoped she hadn’t offended the duke too much. Louisa didn’t like how he spoke to and about Jerome. At the same time, though, she knew that upsetting him would do more harm than good.
The duke drained his glass, letting the empty glass rest loudly on the table. He drummed his fingers on the surface before he looked at Jerome. “It seems I have not yet told you that you have made a good choice, Jerome.”
Jerome stiffened at the words. Louisa felt oddly proud, which she didn’t care to explore. It was easier to shove the feelings aside right now.
“What do you mean, Father?” Jerome asked.
“You have done well in choosing a wife.” The duke’s voice was gruff, even though his
words were welcomed. “Not only is Louisa a lovely lady, but one of high birth as well. I did not expect to grow fond of her so easily.”
“You flatter me, Your Grace,” Louisa said politely.
The duke nodded in acknowledgement of her words but kept his attention on his son. “I know I am a man of my word, Jerome, so I am certain you know what I will say next.”
Louisa glanced at Jerome just in time to see him swallow. He looked uneasy. “I understand, Father.”
“Once it is done, I will make sure to make my request to the Prince Regent.”
“The Prince Regent?” Louisa echoed curiously. She frowned a little when she saw how Jerome had tensed up at the sound of her voice. “And what, may I ask, would you like to request from the Prince Regent?”
The duke’s brows lifted slightly at her question. “Has he not told you?”
“Father—”
“Told me what, exactly?” Louisa straightened. A sense of foreboding came over her. She looked at Jerome again, watching the way his jaw ticked. “It seems there is something I have not been informed of.”
“You will be pleased, Louisa,” the duke said offhandedly. “I told Jerome that if he found a proper noblewoman as a wife, and continues my legacy, I will request that the dukedom be handed over to him as my heir after my death.”
Louisa felt her chest grow tight. The duke’s words, the insinuation of what was required of Jerome, made it hard to breathe. She didn’t dare to look at Jerome, afraid she might see the truth within his eyes. She was afraid she would learn that the trust she had begun to place in him had been a mistake.
“Tell me,” she whispered, her voice just loud enough to be heard, “what exactly do you mean by your legacy?”
The duke frowned a little at that. “Is it not obvious? For Jerome to have the dukedom, Louisa, you must both produce for me an heir.”
Chapter Eighteen
Every part of her body shook with her fury, aching with the force of it. She hardly had the strength to leave with grace. The duke seemed taken aback by her sudden chilly silence, but Jerome had swept in with ease, thinking of a reason for them to leave, clearing the path for her. She was too outraged to be grateful.
Louisa forced herself not to storm out of the manor. With her hands clenched into fists by her side, she maintained a steady stride to the carriage, climbing in with ease. She glared at the seat ahead of her as she waited for Jerome to enter as well. She didn’t say anything until the carriage was finally moving.
“How dare you,” she hissed.
“I can explain,” Jerome said quickly. She narrowed her eyes at him, digging her nails into her palm. She said nothing, waiting. She hated to admit it to herself, but she needed that explanation. Any reason she could get to let go of this anger, to forgive herself for trusting him, she would take it.
But it was another lie. He had nothing to say.
“How dare you!” she screamed this time. Louisa wished she had something she could throw. She’d never felt anger like this before, anger that made her want to destroy everything in her path.
“Louisa, please.” Jerome’s voice wasn’t as calm as it usually was. There was a lilt to it, something akin to desperation. Louisa didn’t dare give in to it. “I know you are upset, and you have every right to be—”
“You thought deceiving me was the best option for you?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “How could you not tell me that this was your intention all along? To have me bear your heir so you can inherit the dukedom?” She scoffed, not giving him the chance to answer. “I should have known. It is my fault. Ever since you were courting Charlotte, I have always known that you were self-centered, but I didn’t think you could possibly be this terrible!”
“I am sorry, I could not know—I did not think that…that you would be so opposed to being married, let alone the extent of your dislike for being touched. If I had known I would—”
“You would have what? Let me be? Even though I had told you numerous times that I did not want to marry you?”
Jerome frowned at that. She welcomed his anger eagerly.
“This marriage benefitted you as much as it did me,” he seethed. “You were the one who accepted my proposal by revealing it to your entire family.”
“Ah, yes. My silly little slip of a tongue that could have been cleared up with one word from you.” The vision of her sinister Uncle slid into her head and Louisa cast the image aside. She didn’t want to think of how Jerome had saved her in that moment, how she had relied on him and he had stepped forward to help her without a second thought.
“As I said, I—I had no choice,” she snipped. “I hope you know that I will not be bearing your child. I can hardly bear to be around you now.”
Though she said the words, Louisa felt it difficult to look away from him. Even in the dim moonlight, she could see his despair. It tore at her, nearly ripping her fury to shreds, but Louisa held on to it as valiantly as she could.
No, I cannot feel bad. He deceived me. I have every right to be upset.
She didn’t dare admit that most of her anger was directed at herself. Louisa had been steadfast in her decision to stay away from men for the rest of her life. It had been as much for her survival as it had been for her peace of mind. But somehow, Jerome had managed to weed his way into her life, filling her with unusual emotions she couldn’t decipher. She had let her guard down and, just as she should have expected, she had gotten hurt. Only this hurt wasn’t the sort she had expected.
Louisa felt pain from within, her heart tightening uncomfortably. Her fury was the only thing familiar to her and so she would hold on to it if she could.
“I understand how you must feel,” Jerome said gently. Louisa glared at him, another layer of defense against his never-ending compassion. “You are correct in asserting that I should have spoken the truth from the very beginning. Though my father had not expressly said those words to me, I knew what sort of man he is. I knew he would not hand me the dukedom unless he was certain there would be an heir to take my place once I am gone.”
Louisa scoffed angrily, looking out the window. She didn’t see anything as Jerome continued.
“Telling you the truth of what he wanted would only push you away,” he said. “It was a risky venture but—I wanted to marry you, Louisa. I am sorry I brought such distress to your life as a result.”
Now her heart was pounding for an entirely different reason. Louisa’s fists went slack, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to think she was softening.
When he continued, he sounded at odds with himself, his awkwardness of a few days ago returning. “I know there is little I can say to earn your forgiveness, but if you will only tell me what you wish, I will do my best to provide it for you.”
So many terrible things rushed to her head at once, but Louisa didn’t have the strength to say any of them. To her annoyance and horror, her anger was slipping. Her conviction not to bear his child remained, but without the rage, it felt flat.
“What of your mother?” she asked suddenly. Satisfaction rushed through her when she saw how he stiffened. “I suppose she will gain a lot from this as well, won’t she? Her son becoming the duke. Do tell me, was that also part of your motivation?”
Her words didn’t come out as snidely as she hoped they would. Louisa felt oddly relieved about that. She watched Jerome as he sat back and lowered his gaze to his lap, his jaw moving around.
“You do not need to worry about her,” he said, his voice flat. “She is dead.”
The finality with which he said the words was enough to chase away the rest of her anger.
Jerome grew pensive. “We were poor. I had very little and my poor mother slaved her life away trying to provide for us. She had been abandoned by my father and had worked as best as she could to care for me and herself. She wasn’t pleased I met with my father, after he had ignored us for so long, but she knew it was what was best for me.”
Louisa gripped her dress as Je
rome lifted his somber eyes to her. “Within such little time, I had learned the stark difference between the poor and the wealthy. The divide between nobles and commoners was far greater than I had realized. I could no longer blame my mother for falling for the duke so long ago. Perhaps she had been dazzled by it all. I was the same when I first met my father, when he began to raise me himself, considering I was his only child. I understood that if I wanted to make sure I did not suffer like we had again, I had to strive for excellence.”
He nodded slowly, almost introspectively. “You are correct in thinking that I am opportunistic. Pursuing Charlotte had been to that aim, for the most part, though I could not deny that I did enjoy her presence. But I never cared for Charlotte the way I care for you.”
“I understand, but…” Louisa murmured, her heart racing. She could feel her resolve slipping as soon as it came.
