Redemption of the Duke

by Gayle Callen

  He took her hand. “That was very kind of you.”

  “He was kind to me. And then his son granted me a letter of reference for what I’d done.”

  “And that’s how you came to work for the Warburtons.”

  She nodded. “So you see, none of this is a secret. It could come out at any time.”

  “The things I did in India aren’t a secret,” he countered. “They could come out at any time.”

  “It’s not the same thing!”

  “No, mine are worse. You are only guilty of trying to survive, Faith.”

  “You did the same.”

  He ignored that. “I admire you tremendously.”

  She searched his face, and all she saw was kindness and support and caring. “But—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Marry me, Faith. If you care what people think, then imagine what they’ll say when I pursue you like a besotted fool.”

  She bit her lip, shocked that he’d almost made her smile. “But . . . Adam, this will cause you more heartache than you can imagine. Someday you’ll truly regret it.”

  “I won’t. So what is your answer?”

  She sighed, feeling too tired to fight anymore. “All right, I’ll marry you.”

  He grinned his charming grin, but that didn’t shake her feeling of eventual disaster. She was giving in, not happily agreeing, and that wasn’t the right motivation to marry. He hadn’t said he loved her, she didn’t know if she loved him. And she was afraid she was agreeing because she had nowhere else to go, and another scandal would be her utter ruin. Not a good way to begin a life together, she thought.

  “Adam, I want you to understand that I will not forget about my passion to help young ladies. I might not be able to be a chaperone, but I want to help, and for women to feel like they can come to me for advice someday.”

  “It sounds like a worthwhile calling,” he said seriously. “I support anything you’d like to do.”

  She blinked in surprise. Would he really be such a “perfect” husband? She sighed. “I should move out, Adam. Now that we’re engaged—”

  “No.”

  She shot him a surprised look at the uncompromising firmness of his voice. “Adam, you know it’s not proper for your fiancée to live in the same home with you.”

  “We have dozens of chaperones. Frankly, I don’t care what people think. For once, I’ll rely on the fact that I’m a duke. You’re staying here, safe and protected.”

  “Protected?”

  “I don’t want people like the Warburtons to decide to use you.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was implying, but she let it go. When he leaned in to kiss her, she turned so that his lips touched her cheek.

  He straightened, unperturbed. “Let me tell my family. I don’t want them to ever hurt you again like they did tonight.”

  “Adam, please don’t blame them for their understandable shock and anger. Promise me.”

  “Very well, but only for you. My betrothed.”

  She stared at him. “I . . . it already feels strange.”

  “Not to me. You’ve made me happy.”

  “I hope so, Adam,” she said softly. “I hope so.”

  Adam was able to hold his smile until the door closed behind her, and his last glimpse had been her bowed shoulders. She’d had to bear so much. He sank into his chair and ran both hands down his face.

  He felt ill, physically ill.

  One reckless, arrogant decision he’d help make in India had changed so many people’s lives. Good men had died, and one woman had sacrificed her innocence to survive. He’d done this to her as if he’d sold her himself. He felt dazed with grief and confusion, almost as much as when those men had died and the overwhelming knowledge of his part in it had first become apparent.

  First thing in the morning, he would call off Raikes, cancel his fact-finding search about Faith before he learned the truth. He didn’t want anyone else to be able to hurt his future wife.

  She was so strong, and he admired her so much. She deserved better than someone as flawed as he was, but he was too selfish to give her up.

  When Faith didn’t come down to breakfast, and Frances remained in the day nursery, Adam stood at the head of the table in the breakfast parlor and faced his family. They’d obviously been talking nonstop until his arrival, and now they looked at him in silent suspense.

  “Faith has agreed to be my wife,” he announced bluntly.

  “No!” cried his mother, aghast.

  Marian gasped, her expression one of outrage. Sophia and Aunt Theodosia exchanged relieved glances.

  “It took some persuasion after the way some of you behaved last night,” he continued.

  “The way we behaved!” the duchess countered hotly. “She is a commoner, Adam! ‘Miss Cooper’—do you not hear the laboring class in her name alone? Someone in the not-too-distant past made barrels!”

  “I don’t care about her ancestors,” he said, striving for patience. “I care about her, and how I’ve treated her.”

  “But the scandal!” Marian interjected.

  He ignored her. “Mother, do you not remember how people reacted when Father married you?”

  She visibly flinched.

  “You had little dowry to speak of—and Faith is the same.”

  “Though it is unkind of you to remind me,” she said in a calmer voice, “surely you have not forgotten that our happiness did not last long.”

  “I hope that I have learned from those mistakes.” He knew a moment of uncertainty. Did he really know how to make a woman happy—a woman he was forcing into marriage? “There was pressure from Father’s family, and I do not expect any of that kind of pressure on Faith. Do we have an understanding?”

  No one said anything for a moment, and then Aunt Theodosia rose and limped toward him.

  “Bend down, young man, so I can give you a kiss of congratulations.”

  He did. “Thank you, Aunt.”

  Sophia hugged him and whispered, “I’m so glad it worked out!”

  He wasn’t quite sure it would work out, but he wasn’t about to say that.

  Faith came down late to breakfast, as Adam had requested, so she tried to tell herself she wasn’t a coward. He wanted to send a tray to her room, but she’d refused. That would have been truly cowardly.

  The footmen had been starting to clear the sideboard, but immediately backed away with a bow. Did they already know?

  She wasn’t all that hungry, but took some toast and hot chocolate. Just as she sat down, the duchess entered.

  Faith stood back up. “Your Grace,” she murmured, bowing her head.

  “Miss Cooper.” Her voice was laced with scorn. She gestured to the footmen, who scurried from the room and closed the doors behind them.

  Faith stood awkwardly, unsure what to do.

  “What can I give you to call this foolishness off?”

  Faith stared at her. The duchess was trying to bribe her? “Ma’am, I begged not to marry him. But how would it look if I ran away? It would look like I’d let him be dishonored.”

  “How noble of you,” she said sarcastically.

  “Whatever you may think, I care about him. I’ve made a commitment, and I will not disappoint him.”

  “Of course you will—how can you not?”

  “Mama!” Sophia exclaimed from the doorway. “If you cannot be polite, then you should leave.”

  The duchess swept out on a cloud of indignation, and Faith sank back into her chair, the toast no longer appetizing.

  Sophia pulled up a chair. “I’m so happy you agreed to marry my brother!”

  Faith gave her a faint smile. “Then you are the only one.”

  “There’s Aunt Theodosia—and Adam. Adam is ver
y happy, too.”

  She had nothing to say about that, asking instead, “But what about your friend Lady Emmeline? Will she not be terribly disappointed?”

  Sophia sighed. “She will be, yes, but I never saw the match myself. I would never have said that to anyone, because it wasn’t my business. Just like it wasn’t my business to say that I could see there was something between you and Adam from the moment you arrived.”

  Secrets, Faith thought. “I don’t know about that.”

  “He told me about your brother’s death and how he felt responsible.”

  Faith glanced at her in surprise. “Really? He didn’t tell me he’d discussed it with you.”

  “Are you upset?”

  “Of course not. You’re his sister, and he should be able to talk to you.”

  “Faith, just remember, sometimes good things happen for a reason.” She squeezed her arm. “So when is the wedding?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t even discussed it.”

  Sophia laughed. “Oh, don’t mind me. I have wedding on the brain. I am pleasantly envious of you.”

  “Please don’t be. You, too, will have your happy ending.”

  “I will,” Sophia said with determination.

  The rest of the day passed strangely, what with Adam giving her the present of a beautiful ring, and then talking marriage settlements. She tried to say she didn’t want anything, but he said how would it look for his duchess and children not to be taken care of should something happen to him?

  His duchess. It seemed overwhelming and hard to believe—and that would make his mother the dowager duchess, and Faith wasn’t all that certain she’d be happy about that, what with her emphasis on her still youthful looks.

  But the saddest thing was that Frances seemed to be avoiding her. Faith could only hope that the little girl would get used to the change. If her mother would allow it . . .

  By the end of the week, Faith had gladly permitted Adam’s mother to take over the wedding arrangements. She was relieved that her future mother-in-law was even interested. The duchess and Sophia suggested the color of the wedding dress—pale pink—the dress Sophia would wear as her bridesmaid, the actual date of the wedding, and when the invitations would go out. And her new wardrobe—it took every bit of firmness Faith had to insist that she didn’t need a full trousseau, that Sophia’s generous gift of clothing was more than enough. She thought she might have earned a measure of respect from the duchess with that one. Lady Duncan kept asking her privately if she had her own opinions, but honestly, she didn’t. She was simply trying to use the time with the duchess to form some kind of . . . acquaintance, if not a feeling of friendship or family.

  And in the evening, she felt Adam watching her, and it made her flustered and nervous. They hadn’t even kissed since the engagement—she’d avoided any moments alone—because she could not stop wondering what he expected from an experienced woman on their wedding night.

  Chapter 19

  Late Wednesday afternoon, Faith was surprised to hear that she had callers. The wedding invitations had gone out, of course, and there were many curious people coming by every day. Most people were polite to her face, and she guessed that since they’d never bothered to notice her as a lady’s companion, they had to satisfy their curiosity.

  But callers specifically asking for her? She hurried down from her bedroom, entered the public drawing room—and gave her first broad smile in she didn’t know how long.

  “Charlotte! Jane!” she cried, hurrying to them.

  They were standing awkwardly near one of the many sofas scattered throughout the room. Jane kept glancing at the frescoes on the ceiling with guilt, as if she wasn’t supposed to notice the splendid artwork.

  She held Jane’s hand first, then reached for Charlotte, who looked at her as if she expected her to be different.

  “I’m so glad you came!” Faith said. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

  “When you didn’t come last week, we were concerned,” Charlotte said coolly.

  “I should have sent a note. I am terribly sorry.”

  “And then we received our very own invitations to your wedding!” Jane said excitedly, then settled down after a glance from Charlotte.

  “I hope you will attend,” Faith said. “I was going to visit you both and ask if you’d be two of my bridesmaids.”

  Jane gasped aloud. “But . . . you will not mind my limp?”

  “Of course she wouldn’t mind your limp,” Charlotte said, then frowned. “While that is thoughtful, bridesmaids should be of your own age and station.”

  “You are of my station,” Faith said softly. “Would you consider it? The duchess has picked out lovely dresses.”

  “You’ve bought us dresses?” Jane squealed.

  Lady Tunbridge was in a far corner speaking to an elderly couple, and now she looked up with a frown. Faith found herself not so intimidated by her anymore, so she simply smiled and turned back to her friends.

  “Please tell me you’ll stand up with me,” Faith said in a softer voice. “I am feeling rather unworthy of all that is happening for a ducal wedding.”

  “Do not ever think that!” Jane exclaimed, reaching to squeeze her hand.

  Faith smiled. “Thank you for saying that, but how can I help it? I did not set out to make this happen,” she assured them, glancing at Charlotte.

  Charlotte sighed. “I did wonder at his attentions to you at the beginning. I am glad to see they were honorable.”

  And then Charlotte looked past Faith, and Faith turned around to see Adam coming into the room, larger than life, shrugging his greatcoat from his broad shoulders. He was as handsome as a fairy-tale prince, and everything felt even more unreal.

  He came forward and bowed to each of them. “Ladies, it is so good to see you again. Will you be attending our wedding?”

  “We have both received permission, yes,” Charlotte said.

  “Good. If necessary, I would have had a word with your employers myself.”

  Faith was surprised when Charlotte actually blushed.

  “They’ve agreed to be in the wedding,” Faith said, feeling her first true moment of happiness in a long time.

  Adam put his arm around her waist and she found herself hot and embarrassed.

  “I’m glad you’ll be a part of our big day,” Adam told the women.

  And then he discussed some of the details, which Faith was surprised he remembered. She watched him put her friends at ease, even soothe Charlotte’s ruffled feathers. He truly had a gift with people.

  Seabrook announced Lady Emmeline’s arrival. Sophia, who’d just entered the room, went right to her friend, but Faith felt as if the woman cast a dagger her way just with her eyes.

  Adam looked down at Faith and said regretfully. “I must greet her.”

  “Of course.”

  When he’d crossed the room, Jane whispered, “Why is that woman staring at us?”

  “That is Lady Emmeline Keane,” Charlotte said. “I do believe there was talk that she was destined to be the next Rothford duchess.”

  “The duke never believed that,” Faith said, then winced. “Do forgive me. That sounds defensive. Of course Lady Emmeline can feel disappointed.”

  Whatever Adam said, Lady Emmeline nodded once or twice, not crying certainly, but her dejection was plain.

  “Come sit with us, dear,” Charlotte said, pulling her to a sofa. “Tell us more about the wedding.”

  Two nights later, just before the engagement party given by the duchess, Ellen was helping Faith into the first new gown she’d had in honor of the wedding. Ellen, who before the engagement had been more pleasant, had recently returned to her dour self.

  At last Ellen stepped back, and Faith looked in the mirror. “Very nice, Ellen,” she said,
of the simple arrangement. “Lady Sophia offered me the services of her maid, but it’s obvious I made the right choice.”

  Ellen blinked at her. “But, Miss Cooper, I assumed, once you’re duchess, that you would make other arrangements. I am certainly inexperienced compared to some.”

  Faith turned from the mirror and smiled at her maid. “No, you and I have grown to suit each other. If you don’t mind, I would like you to stay with me.”

  Ellen’s slowly growing smile turned her plain face luminous. “Thank you so much, miss!”

  As they continued to smile at each other, a knock vibrated the door. Ellen opened it to find Frances standing there, looking over her shoulder and twisting her fingers together.

  Faith grinned. “Frances, please come in!”

  Ellen departed and Frances closed the door behind her.

  “I—I came to see your gown,” Frances said with hesitation.

  Faith stood up and twirled, the six flounces on her magenta skirt rippling. The bodice was cut straight across her shoulders, and Ellen had pinned a simple flower wreath in her hair.

  “You look beautiful,” Frances breathed.

  Nothing could have made Faith feel happier. “I am so glad you approve.” She paused. “I have missed seeing you this week.”

  Frances screwed her face up. “I wanted to see you, too, to tell you I’m glad you’ll be my aunt, but my mother . . . she makes things difficult.”

  Faith approached and gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry for that. I never want to make things worse for you. You do what you need to, to keep your mother happy, and I’ll know that we’re friends, even if we can’t see each other much yet. I’m confident that will change soon.”

  Frances smiled up at her. “I hope so!”

  Faith walked downstairs feeling a small return of the optimism that had faded fast after Charlotte and Jane’s visit.

  Adam was waiting for her outside the public drawing room, and he drew her down the corridor to the private one. “You look utterly ravishing.”