Page 23 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“Then you shall marry, Nicholas. That is settled,” he replied.
“But he said it was merely a matter of convenience to do so. I do not think he feels for me as I do for him. He is only trying to save me from scandal. The kiss meant nothing to him. He was drunk, and I cannot imagine he truly desires what he has asked of me,” she said.
“Then you have something of a problem, my gal, wot? You claim not to love Edward, but he claims to love you, despite what happened, and you love Nicholas, but do not believe he loves you. Quite the quandary to find yourself in, wot?” he said, and for once, Rebecca could not help but agree with what her uncle was saying.
He had summarized the situation perfectly and demonstrated the absurdity of the triangle she now found herself embroiled in. She did love Nicholas, just as she always had done. But if he did not really love her, except perhaps in the distant recesses of childhood memory, then would their marriage be any better than a marriage to Edward? It was so confusing.
“It is, uncle,” she said, and he laughed.
“Then marry Nicholas, gal; that is what you should do,” her uncle said making his wishes clear and knocking tobacco out of his pipe onto the hearth.
“And what of Edward?” she asked.
“The second son is always used to setbacks. He will survive. I shall have the engagement cut off, and you may accept Nicholas’s offer of marriage. The arrangements can be made quickly. I can speak to Mr. Wilder at Saint Bartholomew’s; he will see to it. Now, off you go, like a good gal,” he said, pointing to the door.
Rebecca found herself in a daze, quite unable to fathom what had just occurred. Her uncle had been adamant that she marry Edward, or he had at least made no move against it, but now that Nicholas had returned, he seemed to favor the match taking place as soon as possible. It was all so very confusing, and she returned to the library, sinking into a chair by the window and closing her eyes.
She thought again of the kiss which she and Nicholas had shared the night before, of the way his touch had made her feel, and the excitement it had aroused within her. Edward made her feel nothing of the sort, and she found her desire for Nicholas increasing by the moment, longing for their next encounter to occur.
She could hear Samantha and Catherine debating the merits of the match, weighing up one suitor against another. They too would tell her to marry Nicholas, despite her misgivings as to his true feelings and so, with a heavy heart, for she knew it would cause much heartache for Edward, she took up paper and ink and wrote a hasty note to Nicholas at Somerset House, accepting his proposal.
* * *
The days which followed seemed as though a whirlwind had struck in the lives of Rebecca and her closest companions. With a shaking hand she had handed her letter to Nicholas to one of the footmen with instructions to deliver it and await a reply. That reply had been instantly forthcoming, and thus it was that Rebecca and Nicholas were engaged.
At the same time as one betrothal was made, another was broken. Rebecca’s uncle wrote to Edward to tell him that the match between the two of them was annulled, and that Nicholas had done the decent thing and proposed marriage, a proposal which Rebecca had accepted. This too elicited an instant response, and Edward came at once to Weston Manor, filled with rage at the news he had been given.
But her mind was made up, and despite his begging and his threats, she knew that whilst Edward had offered the hope of escape from her uncle, Nicholas would offer something more. She could be happy with him in a way that she never could be with Edward, and thus she declined even his most pitiful pleas for her to choose him instead of Nicholas.
Meanwhile, news of this latest development had spread like wildfire around the salons of the capital, causing a flurry of scandalous gossip as the intricacies and intimacies between Rebecca, Nicholas and Edward were dissected at length. This was a love triangle like no other, and even as the day of the wedding dawned, it seemed that the tonwould have its pound of flesh and see Rebecca’s name as mud.
“Oh, let them talk, Rebecca. You know how it is. One day this Duchess or that is the talk of salons, and the next she finds herself the object of rejection and ridicule, simply for wearing the wrong hat or curtseying to the youngest of the princesses before she has acknowledged the Regent. Goodness me, it is just ridiculous,” Samantha said as Rebecca stood holding up her arms, whilst Lyddie pinned her into her wedding dress.
There were but a matter of hours before the wedding, and Rebecca was feeling nervous, assisted in her preparations by Samantha and Catherine as Laura sat on the bed and watched.
“This is more than just wearing the wrong hat, Samantha,” she said, and her friend tutted.
“My point is that it will all blow over soon enough, and no one will care whom you marry, so long as there is a ring upon your finger,” she replied.
“It has all happened so fast, and Nicholas … well, I am not sure,” she began, but Samantha and Catherine only laughed.
“He is a handsome man and has made honesty out of scandal. What more can you expect? Are you in turmoil over this?” Samantha asked, and Rebecca could only admit that marrying Nicholas did indeed make her happy.
But there was also doubt in her mind, the doubt that in the many years that had passed, his love for her had dwindled, so that now he merely performed this act for the sake of duty and nothing else. She loved him, but did he truly love her?
Her musings were interrupted by a loud rapping at the door and her uncle’s voice calling out angrily.
“Come along, gal. The carriage is waiting. Why does it always take so long for women to ready themselves? Hurry up!” her uncle shouted, and Lyddie pushed the final pin into place.
“At least you will not have to put up withthatanymore,” Catherine said as they hurried to collect their things. The three friends glanced a final time in the mirror as Laura took hold of Rebecca’s hand.
“You look very beautiful, sister,” Laura said, and Rebecca smiled.
“And soon we shall both know a better life, I promise,” she said, and taking a deep breath, she followed Samantha and Catherine from the room, knowing that now there would be no changing her mind.
Chapter Nine
“Rebecca, may I speak with you a moment?” a voice called out, just as Rebecca was climbing into the carriage, followed by her uncle and the others.
