Page 35 of The Wicked Duke's Convenient Bride
“And many marriages of convenience have not been nearly so pleasant,” Lady Mayhew added. “If your husband still grieves his former duchess, that is unfortunate, but it is better than being wed to a rakehell. Being wed to a cold man is far better than being wed to a cruel one. Or a poor one.”
Tabitha sighed. She slumped against the cushions of the settee and grimaced. “I hate it when you say things to make sense,” she said, “especially when I want to disagree with them.”
Lady Mayhew smiled. “I know, dear, but sometimes, your mother does know something of how these things work.”
“You do,” Tabitha said. “You are a very wise woman, and I truly mean that. I know you are telling me what I need to hear, rather than what I want to hear.”
But the problem still remained. Tabitha was unhappy with her marriage and did not know what to do. She did not feel as if she could blame the man for his behaviour, and that was the worst part of it all. It made her feel wretched every time she thought of their confrontation in the dining hall. She should have said nothing. Or lied, at least. Surely, there were dozens of better things to say.
“What do I do, then?” Tabitha asked. “Endure and hope the situation improves?”
“No. You can still find something fulfilling in your marriage. Perhaps, it will not be love, but it will be something,” Lady Mayhew said. “That is often all that women can hope for in marriage. It is regrettable, but nonetheless, it is true. You know this.”
Tabitha sighed. “I do,” she said. “But is that enough? Surviving?”
“It is if you find other things to love. As the Duchess of Hillsburgh, you will have more power than most women could ever dream of having,” Lady Mayhew said. “You will be able to truly make changes in the world. If His Grace still loves her, that is fine. You will do your duty, and he will do his.”
How very romantic, Tabitha thought dryly.
“And then, you may spend the rest of your days reading your books and encouraging education for young ladies,” Lady Mayhew said, “and you will fill your days with visits to Bridgette and your father and me. Then, you will have children, and you will love them because they are yours.”
Tabitha nodded. She could almost imagine it. The life her mother painted for her did not sound happy exactly, but it seemed close enough that Tabitha might be able to endure it. She could find contentment, at least.
“I think you should try to speak to him again,” Lady Mayhew said. “I am sure that you both spoke in anger, and once His Grace has had time to think about his actions, I am sure he will realize his words were too harsh. He will want to make amends, but he may be too proud to approach you. It will be for the best if you make it clear, first, that you will be amenable to such.”
Tabitha nodded. The thought of apologizing before he did stung more than she might like to admit, but she knew there was wisdom in her mother’s words. Even if her husband was not a proud man, which she suspected he was, women were always expected to admit wrongdoing first.
“What if he is not?”
“You must persuade him,” Lady Mayhew said, smiling wryly. “You learned all that rhetoric from books, did you not? Perhaps you ought to use it. I know that I have chastised you in the past for your unwomanly reading, but if you are going to be a well-read lady, you ought to at least use that to your advantage.”
Tabitha had never considered that she only read books and did not apply them to her life as much as she ought to. She pursed her lips together, considering the advice. It was sound, but Tabitha feared somewhat that her temper might get the best of her if her husband proved disagreeable. That had happened in the dining hall. Sure, Matthew had lost his temper, too, but that did not make her own actions any more acceptable.
“Perhaps, you are right,” she said.
“I am right. I have been married for a long time, and although I deeply love your father, I can assure you that we had our own share of marital disagreements, especially in the early days.”
“And yet you managed,” Tabitha said. “You are still happily wed today.”
“Indeed. You and His Grace can be, too.”
Tabitha hummed. She thought of the intimacy struggles, which she and her husband were experiencing, and bit her lip. Her mother had been awkward and flustered when they first spoke about the wedding night, but even so, she had offered some advice.
“What about … what about intimacy?” Tabitha asked tentatively. “He will not even consummate the marriage with me.”
She wondered if he would have that night in the dining hall if she had not thwarted his advances. What if that night had been a step forward in their relationship, and she had ruined it?
Her mother’s eyes widened. “He will not consummate the marriage? Are you still …?”
“A virgin,” she confirmed.
“You must persuade him to consummate,” Lady Mayhew said, looking uneasy.
“I know,” Tabitha said, “but I wonder, too … what am I to do if Her Grace does return? Matthew cannot be wed to two women, and I know which of us he would prefer.”
“She will not return,” Lady Mayhew said. “Either some tragic fate befell her, or else, she willingly left and has not come back. If she wished to return, she would have already. You need not worry about such things.”
Tabitha nodded. She knew that anticipating Her Grace’s return after so much time was illogical, but still, learning that Matthew still loved his missing wife filled her with a creeping sort of dread. What if—despite all rationality—Her Grace did return?
