Page 7 of The Wicked Duke's Convenient Bride
Splendid was, of course, the kind way of saying she will give me the heir I need.
It was not a love match, but it was advantageous. Perhaps that was the best possible outcome for the situation.
Chapter 3
“Perhaps it will not be so bad,” said Miss Bridgette Cameron, Tabitha’s best friend since girlhood. “At least he is a duke and can ensure that you have plenty of money in the coffers.”
Bridgette was a merchant’s daughter; she would think of the money first. Tabitha sighed and looked at her friend. They made a rather odd pair. While Tabitha was fair-haired and had pale eyes, Bridgette’s hair was dark, and her eyes gleamed like the finest piece of jet.
“At least, you are not marrying a man with a title and nothing else of substance, as I have heard is wont to happen on occasion.”
Tabitha leaned her head back against the seat cushion as the coach moved roughly over London’s uneven streets. It had been three days since that awkward meeting in His Grace’s townhouse. Now, she and Bridgette were riding towards Tabitha’s engagement ball. Lord and Lady Mayhew had decided to travel together, allowing Tabitha a few blissful miles of privacy with her dearest friend.
“I suppose you must be tired of hearing my complaints,” Tabitha said. “This is a disaster of my own making, after all.”
“No,” Bridgette said, shaking her head.
“It very much is.”
Tabitha had told her mother and father that she and Cassius were merely speaking to one another. They had unwisely decided that they wished to converse without a chaperone, but Tabitha had assured her parents that nothing else had transpired between them.
She had told only Bridgette the entire truth, knowing that her friend would forgive her and not be terribly disappointed by a brief lapse in judgement. Tabitha was not certain that she could bear having her parents think she was a disgrace.
“You made an unwise decision,” Bridgette said, “but I do not fault you for that. The world expects too much of women. We are supposed to deny our impulses and desires, to be perfect and virginal, and the world is not nearly so unkind to men as it is to us. I imagine it is worse being a lady of your standing.”
Tabitha nodded. “But also, I feel as though I should have realized Cassius was a villain. I have wanted to speak to Lady Victoria to learn if he said the same honeyed words to her, but I do not dare. I am not sure that I would be able to refrain from saying something unkind, and I am unsure if knowing what occurred between them would make me feel any better at all.”
“Likely not.” Bridgette paused. “Are you certain this is what you wish to do?”
The coach halted, and Tabitha looked fleetingly out the window. “Yes. I am certain. It is not the marriage I wanted, but it is better than being disgraced or a spinster. Or worse, wed to a man who betrayed me.”
She exited the carriage and waited for Bridgette. Then, the two ladies linked arms and followed the short path to the entryway. Many women married men that they did not love; that was the way of their world. Love matches were relatively rare, however much Tabitha had wanted to find one in Cassius.
As they entered, the Dowager Duchess of Hillsburgh greeted them. Beside her stood Lady Miriam, His Grace’s younger sister. Tabitha had met Lady Miriam previously, and having met her brother, the Duke of Hillsburgh, Tabitha now recognized the familial resemblance between the pair.
Like her brother, Lady Miriam was dark-haired and had piercing green eyes. She was taller than was fashionable, and there was something too hard about her features. Lady Miriam was not a conventionally pretty woman, and at four-and-twenty years, spinsterdom seemed something of an inevitability.
“Lady Tabitha!” Her Grace greeted. “Oh, where is my son?”
Tabitha tried not to let her face fall. Her own fiancé had not even endeavoured to greet her on the night when they were to announce their engagement. Even though the marriage was one of mutual convenience, she still felt as though His Grace could have made a little effort to appear as though he were eager to see her.
“Over there,” Lady Miriam said, raising a hand and beckoning into the crowd behind her. “Ah, he is coming now.”
“Splendid,” Her Grace said.
That was a strange word to refer to one’s betrothed-to-be having to be signalled to approach his future bride. Bridgette gave Tabitha’s arm a comforting squeeze, seemingly sensing her dismay.
The Duke of Hillsburgh smiled. “Lady Tabitha, how wonderful to see you.”
“Likewise, Your Grace.”
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at one another. Tabitha once again had that strange sensation of being studied very carefully. She felt like a country mouse being observed by an especially fierce and mischievous cat, and the realization sparked something inside her and created a roaring inferno.
When he looked at her like that, she felt an inkling of some previously unknown emotion. Even if she did not have a name for it, she knew it was strong and desirous. She could almost believe that he cared and did not merely perceive her as a means to obtaining an heir.
He glanced askance at his mother, and the spell was broken. Tabitha’s breath shuddered. “Would you care to dance?” he asked.
His eyes were on his mother, as if it were really her approval that he cared about rather than Tabitha’s own. That stung more than she wanted to admit.
