"How is this proper?" She shook her head as her slippers sank into the creeping wave of marigolds. They needed to just take hold of her ankles and pull her free. "My dearest friend says that you only wed for love."
"No." He cradled her shoulders until all her weight fell on him. "Some marriages are practical, built on a foundation of respect and honor. You have mine."
The smooth feel of his damask waistcoat coddled her cheek. The scent of his skin, spicy tarragon, swept over her, weakening her resolve. "I respect you, too. You seem an honorable man, and a good father, but this is too much. You don't know anything about me. I could have secrets."
"Don't you want to marry?"
"Yes; a name of my own is a dream."
He kissed the crown of her head. "You would actually have three; Duchess, the Duchess of Cheshire, and Gaia St. Landon. I know enough about you to know this is right. Think of the utility of this marriage; two friends bonded by respect and faithfulness, sharing a mission to protect our families."
How could Gaia be faithful? Kissing the wrong man and her own wanton heritage should be enough proof that she couldn't. She dropped her chin. "This is madness."
"It would be perfect: you helping Mary, me protecting and aiding the Telfairs. You'd never become a governess to Master Timothy or anyone."
Oh, why did she prattle on about Mr. Telfair's plans? Now William could use her fears to sway her. She should just tell him she wanted to marry a black like his servant Albert. She opened her mouth, but those words wouldn't come out.
"Agree, Gaia."
"We can't. You should marry someone beautiful, with milky skin like Julia."
"I don't want your sister and, as for you, dearest Gaia, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy sweet voice, and thy countenance is comely."
"Song of Solomon?"
His smile widened. "You can't be a vicar's son and be unscathed."
That passage also talked about being black and comely; the duke couldn't have meant that. She squirmed again, but her strength lessened within his firm grip. "Why me?"
"Why not you? Gaia, this alliance will help your sisters. Don't you want to make sure they have the best opportunities? How could they not, with a sister who became a duchess?"
With no one, not even Elliot, closer to proposing to Julia, the girl might as well be fitted with a spinster's cloak.
Though she wanted to yank Helena's braids, all her sisters, Helena, Lydia, and even Julia would be elevated. That had to be good. They were all sisters, despite the foulness of Gaia's blood.
"When I speak with your father, I will let him know it will be a long engagement, lasting through the summer."
Her father? Oh, he meant Mr. Telfair. She clasped the duke's arm, tapping it in protest. "How does that make it better?"
He leaned down, and his warm breath caressed her neck. "Given enough time, you'll see the rightness of our match, and, if not, you can break the engagement. It's a woman's right, but I can think of no one else who should possess my name."
A name. He wanted to give her a name. Pulse throbbing, her chin lifted of its own volition, as if to give the duke full access to her jaw, to allow his pant to cascade her bare neck, unprotected by the collar of her pelisse. She stiffened, throwing off the delusional thought. "You're rich and handsome. You don't need an arranged marriage."
"I do need a wife, someone who I trust to help raise Mary. I'd rather wed a friend than a careless smile that pretends to love me. Gaia, I don't believe you'd break vows and scandalize my name with affairs." An edge settled in his voice, then cleared as he released her. "What say you?"
Her mind swam in a sea of conflicts. Engaged to the duke? If their marriage weren't based on love, wouldn't she stray just like her mother? Did wantonness swim in her blood? She blinked, hoping clarity would enter her vision. It wouldn't.
"You will be protecting me from the throngs of ladies... Oh, how did you put it... Weighing my pockets... or, worse, attempting to compromise me? It happens to men, you know."
Timothy gave a hoot, and Lady Mary waddled to chase him. They stopped in front of Gaia, each child eyeing her, as if they knew she had a big decision.
The little girl looked at her with a wide, silent grin. Her heart fluttered as she remembered Timothy's first clear words. God gave Gaia a talent to care for His little ones. If she didn't try, how much time would be wasted, before Mary received help? Maybe this was why Gaia existed.
"This will solve all our problems, Gaia… lovely Gaia."
His voice sounded so confident, as if this had been his plan all along, not Helena's creation.
His hands tightened on her elbows, and he eased the tension in her limbs. "Trust me. Take a chance. Share my name."
She must be dizzy, but his arguments swayed her. This could help a little girl, and keep Gaia from being a governess. Their union would improve the lot of her family. And at last she'd have a name. How could she not?
She licked her lips. "Shouldn't you be on bended knee or something?"
He spun her in the circle of his arms. "Let's just say I did, and we skip to a congratulatory kiss."
Before she weakened anymore to the glint in his sea-blue eyes, she pushed on his chest. "Go see Mr. Telfair."
William stepped away from Gaia. This was perfect. The unbearable memories of his wedded bliss had blinded him to the obvious solution… a marriage of convenience. He shuffled down the path, inhaling the spring scent of the gilded flowers: marigolds, aconite, and buttercups; the perfect nectar for an almost perfect morn.
Gaia would be the best wife, pretty and funny. An attraction simmered between them that, given time, would solve the heir issue.
With a wave, he turned for a last glimpse. Gaia leaned over Mary. His heart clenched when the child went easily into her arms. She'd take care of his Mary. They'd have a quiet, honorable life. Why hadn't he seen it before?
One foot after the other, he walked the trail. This felt right. Gaia would help his girl, and give his daughter the love and affection Elizabeth denied.
But what of Gaia's affection for Whimple? He fisted one hand into the other. Had he just placed himself in jeopardy? Like Elizabeth, would she eventually stray, too?
Gaia wasn't immune to William. He could keep her so, right? Possessing a natural amount of male vanity didn't stop his gut from burning at the notion of Gaia turning cold to his touch.
Shuddering inwardly, he entered the threshold. The house was in an uproar: Mrs. Monlin crying, dancing children; too late to beg off now. He wiped his brow, and pulled off his gloves.
Mrs. Monlin swiped at her eyes and shoved him into the parlor. "My brother will be down in a few moments. The cold night air has taken a toll on his strength this morning."
She sat him on the burgundy sofa, but kept fidgeting until she popped up. Her puce gown floated like a bell, swishing about her ankles. "I'll go see what's keeping Mr. Telfair."
As she left, Mrs. Telfair entered, bearing a tray of scones and a pot of steaming tea. Her forehead held crinkled lines.
He might as well ease the mother's mind. "I know this is sudden, but I would be honored to receive Miss Telfair's hand."
Mrs. Telfair slipped into her chair, but a strain stayed on her face. Even her eyes looked weak, as if they'd leak at any moment. "It's not mine to give. She agreed to this?"
He nodded.
She put a hand to her jaw. "You know she has feelings... Her opinions.... She claims to love—"
"I know about the plant-loving Mr. Whimple. I love plants, too. Gaia is smart enough to know the difference between an infatuation and lifelong security."
The woman righted herself in her seat. The buxom, but pretty, Mrs. Telfair pushed a red curl up into her mobcap as she leaned closer. "Do you really care for her?"
His throat dried. A joke or vagueness wouldn't do for the honest, almond-shaped eyes blinking at him. He left the sofa and stalked to the creamy mantle. Moving the fine garniture vases stationed on the right to the center, he form
ed the words on his tongue; careful ones. "I respect her very much. And her direction will benefit my daughter. My Mary is mute."
Mrs. Telfair's voice was laced with sorrow. "I see, but love is important."
Tracing the pink porcelain of the tallest of the three vases with his thumb, he shifted his stance. "It's best to focus on the benefits of this arrangement. It will serve both families well."
A hand, soft and pudgy, tugged at his shoulder. "What if Gaia decides she wants love?"
He turned to Mrs. Telfair and caught a wide-eyed, sympathetic gaze. "I shall do my hardest to spoil her with the comfort and security of my position. My care and concern are not fleeting, not tossed aside for new or old passions." The years had taught him how to be indulgent, even doting; and he wasn't away to war this time to strain relations.
Fussing noises of warring siblings, older adult siblings, filtered into the parlor. Mrs. Monlin and Mr. Telfair entered. His hair held a little grey powder, as did the edges of his dark coat. He straightened his glasses and shook free from his sister's tucking and brushing of his attire. "Everyone, leave me and the Duke. Sarah, make sure my sister is away from the keyhole."
The door slammed shut behind the ladies' hasty exit. Mr. Telfair tapped the pianoforte as he continued a slow effort across the room. "Take a seat and say your piece."
"I'd rather stand." William crossed in front of him. "I'd like your permission to wed your daughter, Gaia Telfair."
"She has no dowry. We have few connections. I don't want her subjected to the cruelty of joining a higher class."
William's posture stiffened, as if he were giving a report to his military superiors. "No one who has met Miss Telfair, who has seen the wit, her sharpness of mind, would think less of her. I certainly wouldn't allow it."
The man nodded, as if the verbal parry were acceptable. Then he tugged on the wide revers of his midnight coat. "I haven't seen you but a few times at the church, your father's church. I can't give her to heathens. Pagan blood is catching."
This was a new route of interrogation, one with a sinister bent. Why? William straightened his shoulders. "My lack of attendance is an oversight. It will be corrected."
Mr. Telfair nodded, even as a grimace filled his face. Did Gaia's father not want his daughter to marry well? Didn't all men want security for their daughters?
"Your father was a good man. He did me a valuable favor a year before Gaia's birth. It would be ironic for our families to have a connection now. Hasn't he told you of our friendship?"
What was the bird driving at? And why would this keep William from Gaia? "If my father did you a favor, then this union is repayment."
Telfair sank into a chair near the fireplace and adjusted his low heel. "I don't think he'd want that, not this bargain." He coughed, as if to hide something. "It is our custom that the elder girl marries before a younger."
"I'm not Jacob of the Bible." William tucked his arms behind his back. "I have no intentions of waiting seven years, or committing the crime of bigamy."
This brought a chuckle to Telfair's lips. "So, you are conversant in the ways of God. A point in your favor. She will need a strong hand to keep her well-grounded."
Papa's training was good for something, but why did it seem Telfair's opinion of Gaia was so low? Had she done something in her younger years? Nonsense. William leaned forward. "Telfair, what is your true objection? I am a man of some means. This elevation will help all your daughters."
"I had my own expectations for Gaia. My son will need her always. I want her to take care of him when I'm no longer able."
Ah, the governess business. "As her husband, I will make it my responsibility to make sure Master Timothy is well cared for. If you give me the honor of her hand, I will be a doting older brother to all the Telfairs."
"And what if scandal comes and nasty things are said of Gaia? Her skin is darker than most. It's been fodder for the mean-spirited. I don't want the Telfair name disparaged, or that you say later that you are injured by some means of deceit."
What was he insinuating? There was another story here, probably the thing that had made Gaia cry. A fierce sense of protection filled William, puffing out his chest. "I will protect her and the Telfair name with my life."
"I'll trust you are a man of your word. I don't know how she could be what you want, especially with my first wife's ideas about marriage."
So, Telfair's first marriage wasn't good. Join his personal club. Yet how could he besmirch Gaia? There was something evil about the man's smile, but, being plagued by his own scandals, William wasn't hunting for others. He drew his arms behind his back. The tightness of his stance should tell Mr. Telfair the seriousness of his commitment. "We will have a long engagement, and if she decides that she must break our engagement, I'll let her."
The old man shook his head. "Cheshire, you have thought of everything."
Telfair must believe Gaia's feelings for Whimple were strong. If she couldn't keep her vows, yearning for the botanist, William would gladly let her go and spare himself the misery of another scandal. He cleared his throat. "If there is a break, I'll even give you four thousand pounds as a dowry for her. I need an answer, plain and simple. Do I have your consent?"
Telfair rose up on wobbly legs and held out his hand. "Only a fool could turn away a man so rich. You have my consent. Send her in to see me."
He swiped his damp palm on his coat, shook Telfair's hand, and then walked out of the parlor. Part of William wanted to wipe his hands again from dealing with the old man.
Gaia sat on the floor near the show table, with her back against the wall and Mary on her lap. In low tones, she counted the child's fingers.
Mary must've thought it a game. She tried to wiggle her hands, as if to avoid the numbering.
"So Mr. Telfair said no? I didn't think—"
"On the contrary." He bent and took Mary from Gaia, then helped the lady stand. "He's given his consent, and wishes to see you."
Gaia's face paled. She reached for her lenses, as if to clean them, but he suspected she hid a tear. "Well, I'll go to him."
"Come to Ontredale tomorrow."
Her eyes widened. "That's too soon. I won't be ready to see you."
He tugged on his gloves and hoped to appear indifferent. "Won't be ready to spend time with Mary? How about the week's end?"
She nodded and slipped away, as if his breath held fire.
What made her so fearful? Maybe her attachment to Whimple was stronger than he’d assessed. A practical marriage of friends was for the best. God opened blind eyes. What of near-sighted ones? Maybe he needed to start praying again for things like that.
He climbed into his landau and waited for the horses to move and the wind to wash his mind of defeat. No, he wouldn't lose this time, so he had to be sure Gaia understood his offer and his requirements for fidelity. If she did, this could be a good marriage. But had he learned enough since Elizabeth to make a second one work?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Consequences of Yes
"WAKE UP, SLEEPY head," Aunt shook the mattress.
Gaia lifted her heavy lids then sat up in her bed. Engaged for five days, and already the world was different, except for Mr. Telfair. No words of congratulations, just of warning to forget her origin. How could she do that? What type of person would that make her if she wed William in deceit?
Aunt shifted the pillows and plucked curl papers from Gaia's head. "Time is wasting."
"What am I late for now?"
"Just one more fitting," Aunt tugged on Gaia's shoulder then gave her a hug. Could the woman be any happier, even sending for her mantua-maker from London? Well, at least someone enjoyed this engagement.
Casting a longing glance to her old muted dresses, Gaia pulled on her robe, tangling her fingers in the drawstring. "Is there nothing suitable in my wardrobe? Surely, the brown-checked one is fine. What of the new dress I started? The lovely pink."
"Those rags." Aunt sashayed to the furnishing. The
ruffles in her fancy burgundy-striped gown fluttered as she yanked Gaia's pale muslin garbs off the shelves and onto the floor. "Why dress like a peasant when the duke can send you yards of sarsenet?" She pulled the lace and a bolt of light-blue fabric, sunnier than Gaia's bedchamber walls, from a bundle of other silks William had sent. Aunt wrapped it about her apple-shaped head.
Gaia looked at the woman, her mother's best friend. The questions couldn't wait anymore, not with this farce of an engagement readying to be announced to the world. "I call you Aunt, because you always loved me, took time with me when my mother died, but we both know that I share no Telfair blood. Who is my father?"
Mrs. Monlin's cheerfulness shattered. The sheepish grin disappeared, and she paled lighter than a sheet. "No one was closer to Delilah than I. You are my brother's daughter, a Telfair."
Gaia's hands shook beneath the bedcovers. "A lesser Telfair, who is now getting to wear finery like my sisters because a duke sent them. No more denials to the black Telfair. Your brother says I'm not his. He wouldn't lie about something so important. I have to know. Was I conceived in rape?"
Aunt put her hand to her ears, as if that would end the questions. "Don't ruin this, Gaia. You are my brother's daughter. The world knows you as such. Soon, you will be a duchess. That will end all questions."
Sarah opened the door. "What is going on in here?"
"I'm trying to make a duchess, and I'm not getting very much help. Speak with her, get her to understand to leave the past in the past." Still draped in the fabric, Aunt moved from the room like a fashionable shepherdess.
Gaia lay back down and pretended her world hadn't changed, and that one careless word couldn't set everything aflame.
Sarah straightened the rolls of cloth; such soft vibrant colors. "What is the problem? Do you disapprove of the duke's taste?"
William did have a fine sense of fashion. Fabrics Gaia had only dreamed of wearing now sat on her bed. Her neck heated, thinking of him selecting things for her. Yet again, he claimed another first, the first to make her blush with his attention. The creamy leather shoes he sent yesterday sat wrapped in paper on her bed table. Her heart slowed. All this would go away when he learned the truth. "I am a lie. I can't create another. I have to tell him."
Unmasked Heart: A Regency Romance (Regency Romance: Challenge of the Soul Book 1) Page 17
