Page 40 of Her Wolf of a Duke

“What I wish more than anything is to wake up in my own bed and have had all of this be a terrible nightmare, but that will not happen.”

“I am sorry, Miss Kendall.”

“You may be as sorry as you please. It changes nothing. I do not know what you want me to say, Your Grace. I enjoyed my time here, for the most part, and the Duke of Pridefield hosts an excellent party, just as you said. Is that better?”

“I am not opposed to what you have said.”

“Shall I say that I was wrong about you, and that you are not a rake? Shall I confess that I have not known what to do with myself, and I feel useless as a daughter, and a sister, and a friend? Is that what you wish to hear?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why are you here? Why are you with me rather than playing cards? You have a life outside of me and my concerns, so go and live it. I have far much more on my mind than whether or not you are beside me during it all.”

“I know, but I thought I could at least help.”

“You are not helping. You have been a distraction from it, but nothing more.”

Emma thought he might argue more, but he simply nodded, accepted it, and left again. She almost regretted it, but she couldn’t. Every word had been true, after all; she needed to give her efforts to her sister, who was trying to find something good about her new match.

Sarah had always tried her best with everything she did, and Emma had admired that about her, but she knew that under her calm surface there was a storm brewing, and soon enough she would begin to thunder.

She decided to listen to her sister instead, as they were only slightly ahead of them and therefore in listening distance.

“Would you wish to stay in London?” Sarah asked softly.

“I am amenable to that, if my wife wanted to. I see the good and bad in both the city and the country, and I am happy to raise my children in either. I will say, though, that my estate in Somerset is vast. It is far more impressive even than my home in London, which is the envy of many as it is.”

Emma sighed. The Viscount had almost done well by suggesting that Sarah could choose where they settled, but he had ruined it by telling her about his wealth. He likely thought that that would impress his bride-to-be, but Sarah did not care at all about money. If she did, she would not have fallen for a baron as quickly as she had.

“Miss Sarah,” he said after a while, “I shan’t pretend that this is a good match, nor will I try to fool myself into thinking that you could ever love me, but I want you to know something.”

At this, Emma truly paid attention. The Viscount was, at least, being realistic.

“We could find a friendship in all of this,” he suggested. “That is what your father expects. He says you will do it if he asks, and that this is what is best for you. I can offer you security, and afford you all of the privileges of a married lady without any of the duties—besides bearing my children, of course.”

It was a nice offer, and most ladies would have appreciated it, but Emma knew Sarah wouldn’t be interested in the least. She had always longed for a true love match, and this was decidedly not one. Nor would it ever be. She would be unhappy throughout the marriage. There would be glimpses of happiness, likely from her children if they had any, but when all was said and done she was destined to live in misery.

Their walk ended soon after, and though Sarah hid it well, the promise of a friendship at most with a man old enough to be her father did not make her happy at all.

“I wish that I could see Lord Rosendale,” she whispered when the Viscount left them.

“You could. I could find him, chaperone another walk if you wished.”

Sarah shook her head.

“I am forbidden from speaking to him. Father told me that, if I did, he would take me home at once and have the marriage contract signed that very day. I only have two days of freedom left, Emma. I want to make the most of them.”

“The Viscount sounds as though he wishes to give you some freedoms,” Emma tried, in a vain attempt to find some light in the situation. “He is a better match than some are afforded.”

“Ah, so that means I should not be allowed to be upset about it?”

“I never said that. I am trying to help you.”

“Well, you are not. I am trying to see the good in this, Emma. Honestly I am, but it is impossible. I do not love this man. I hardly even like him, and now I must spend the rest of my life with him even though I would rather walk through fire. My life has ended.”

“Sarah, please, try not to think that way. I know it is difficult, but you might be surprised by your new life. You may even grow to like it, one day.”

“I shall never like it,” she spat. “How dare you? You will be perfectly happy within the year, sitting with Aunt Megan and enjoying the finer things in life, while I will be languishing in a drawing room with an old and withered man, desired only for making his babies.”

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