“Oh, Father, you shouldn’t worry,” she said. “I’m perfectly content with my status as a spinster. I love painting, and with Lily to keep me company, I will hardly ever be lonely. Please, you mustn’t worry yourself about me. I will be fine.”
The viscount shook his head, giving his daughter a warm smile.
“But I want better for my little girl,” he said. “You deserve better. That’s why I finally came up with a solution.”
Martha raised an eyebrow curiously.
“A solution?” she echoed. “What do you mean?”
Her father grinned, clearly thrilled that she was interested in hearing what he had to say.
“I’ve had several meetings with the earl of Balmere,” he said, sounding rather pleased with himself. “He wishes for his son to find a bride, for the sake of the family title and legacy. And so, we came to an agreement. There will be an arranged marriage between you and Lord Billington.”
Martha’s mouth fell open, just as her heart fell into her stomach. She was devastated, as she had no desire to marry a stranger. She couldn’t believe that her father would ever make such an arrangement without at least mentioning it to her beforehand. What if she had recently met a man in whom she was interested? What if she simply didn’t wish to be married, which happened to be the case?
And yet, as she looked into her father’s face, she couldn’t bring herself to argue. He looked genuinely proud of what he’d done. And out of respect for him, she had no choice but to agree.
“Very well,” she said softly, though she couldn’t look at her father.
The viscount clapped his hands together, his smile widening. Martha was wounded even further by the fact that her father couldn’t see how much she didn’t want anything to do with an arranged marriage.
“Wonderful, my dear,” he said. “Lord Billington’s father and I will work out the final details tomorrow evening. They’re all coming for dinner tomorrow, and I’m sure they will all be thrilled to hear that you’ve agreed.”
Martha nodded, feeling completely numb. But despite her wounded disbelief, a question popped into her mind. Why would any earl’s son agree to marry her? She was a plain wallflower; the ton seemed to be in perfect agreement about that. And she knew she wasn’t the only unwed miss. She certainly wasn’t the best option. So, why her?
Her father put his hand over hers and gave her an apologetic look.
“There is something you should know about the viscount Billington,” he said, almost as though reading his daughter’s mind. “He has some terrible facial scarring, from an incident several years ago. As such, he hasn’t had much luck finding a bride on his own. I know you can understand how it is to struggle to find a compatible match. And I know your heart is good enough to not judge him based on his appearance.”
Martha bit her lip to hold back tears. She knew her father meant to be reassuring and kind with his words. But how could she feel reassured and soothed with everything he had just told her? And how could she not take offence, when her own father had decided that no man would ever want her, except for a deformed viscount?
Chapter Four
Albert glared up at the ceiling above his bed. He had been awake since just before sunrise, but he had been too bitter to rise from his bed. He lay there stewing about his father’s announcement the evening before. He couldn’t believe that the earl would go ahead with arranging a marriage for him without his permission. His father hadn’t even given him the chance or the option to find a bride, if he was so inclined to do so. How could his father be so focused on his own ideas that he completely dismissed his son’s wishes?
And what of the lady who was being dragged into this? His father had said that he made the arrangement with a gentleman who was also a friend of the House of Lords. Albert doubted that the woman who was supposed to be his bride was any more aware of such arrangement as he had been. He scoffed bitterly as he considered the thought. At least, that would be one thing they had in common. But that alone would never make a friendship, let alone a happy marriage.
Frustrated, he threw back his covers and rolled begrudgingly out of his bed. He could spend the whole day in his chambers fuming, but it felt too much like petulant childishness. He would, however, make a point of avoiding his father as much as possible. He wouldn’t dream of bickering with his father in front of his mother. But nor did he think he could sit in the same room with his father without telling him exactly what he thought about the whole arranged marriage.
He dragged himself across the room, where the call rope for his valet, Daniel, hung along the wall beside the tall dressing looking glass. Out of habit, Albert glanced at himself in the mirror, his eyes instantly fixated on the deformed side of his face. He stared at the horrible scars, his mind taking him back to the night the highwaymen intercepted the carriage. Three years later, and it was still hard for Albert to grasp how quickly a person’s life could change. He remembered the entire altercation with painful clarity. But now, he couldn’t remember what life had been like before the life altering incident. He knew he had been happy, and that life had once been beautiful and worth living. But the feeling was lost to him, he believed, forever.
More than the altercation itself, Albert remembered the day he went to call on Cordelia. In the fortnight afterward that he was recovering, she had called in on him twice. However, he had been in and out of a medicinal haze, and his mother had visited her personally, but ultimately told her that Albert needed his rest to recover. That was why Albert had been so excited to go see her, fifteen days after the incident. And it was why he had been so shocked by her reaction.
Whereas he couldn’t remember his previous happiness, he could never forget how her happy expression melted into one of horror and disgust as the butler had announced his arrival that morning. Time had slowed impossibly as she stared at him for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime. Albert choked on the words of love and affection with which he had intended to shower her as soon as he saw her face again. He knew what she would say before she even opened her mouth. And yet, he still wasn’t prepared when she told him that they could never be together.
He twitched, shaking his head and rubbing his face, vainly trying to keep the trauma from that moment from settling into his mind. He had been so happy to see her well and alive, and longing to continue their life together. And yet she had treated him like he was a strange monster, someone she never knew and believed intended her harm, as though the amount of love he had for her had never meant anything to her. And if his own lover could do that, what made his father think that a perfect stranger wouldn’t do far worse?
When Daniel entered the room a few minutes later, Albert strode over to the wardrobe. He didn’t care about his appearance as he rifled through his outfits. He chose a plain tan suit, with a matching shirt, cravat, gloves, hat and belt. He looked like a large walking piece of caramel when Daniel finished helping him dress. Albert might have found it amusing, had he not been so deeply troubled by the thoughts that his memories had stirred just an hour before.
He barely sat through Daniel combing his ash blond hair straight back before he jammed the hat atop his head. Daniel looked at him warily and stepped back.
“Are you dissatisfied, milord?” he asked. “I would be happy to help you dress into something else, or restyle your hair…”
“No,” Albert snapped, wincing as the valet grimaced. He sighed and shook his head, trying to soften his eyes as he spoke again. “No, Daniel. You did well, as ever. I could just rather do without today.”Or any day hereafter,he added with silent bitterness.
The valet nodded, relaxing a bit. His face was filled with confusion, but Albert didn’t feel like talking. He gave the valet a firm pat on the shoulder and shook his head.
“Thank you, Daniel,” he said. “I shall be going downstairs now. You are dismissed for the morning.”
