Page 12 of Wedded to the Loveless Duke
“Nevertheless… I love you, as I always have, Eleanor. Will you always remember that?”
She frowned at the odd request and nodded. “Of course, Father.”
He took a deep breath and pulled away. “The carriage awaits, my dear.”
“Will you tell me now where we are going?”
“On the way.” He guided her outside and helped her into the carriage before climbing in to sit beside her. “Do you like how the dress looks on you?”
“I do.” Eleanor smoothed her palms over the beautifully worked muslin with a smile. “It is lovely.”
“Good. It looks well on you. You will be the envy of all.”
The carriage went into motion, rolling down the country roads towards London’s busier streets. Eleanor folded her hands in her lap. “What is this mysterious event, then, Father? You promised to tell me on the way.”
“Indeed.” William looked away from her. “I know you are not fond of such events, but I needed you to accompany me to a wedding.”
Eleanor stiffened. “Why do you need a companion for such event? Who is to be wed?”
He still wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It is a duke’s wedding, Eleanor. I could not arrive without the lady of the house on my arm. Please, do not be angry with me for not telling you about it sooner. I knew you would only fret and try to wheedle your way out of it. Besides, he is a friend, and we should show our support.”
“Which friend?” Eleanor frowned. “And you should have told me anyway, Father.”
“Oh, he is a friend of mine. You know him only through an acquaintance.”
“Why have I seen no banns posted for it?” This was becoming stranger by the second.
“It was a rather hurried arrangement, I suppose.” William waved her question off. “I believe he and the young lady have only known one another for a short time, but he did not wish to delay the inevitable. The bride’s father arranged a special license.”
Eleanor raised a brow. “A special license? They do not give those to anyone who wishes it! Who is the bride? Perhaps I know her.”
Her father glanced at her and then went back to looking out the window at the rolling countryside as they approached the outskirts of London. “I do not believe you do. She is a smart, strong-willed woman, but I believe she and her duke are well-suited for each other.”
Eleanor scoffed. “If she is smart and strong-willed, I doubt it to be so. She is foolish to wed. He will clip her wings and cage her like some captive songbird to sing and look pretty without doing anything more. He will drain the life from her as surely as the blood drains from a lamb at slaughter.”
Her father’s gaze flew to her, and his brows drew down. “Eleanor! You were raised better than this. I will hear no more of your comparisons of such a vaunted institution to such a sordid thing as butchering lambs.”
Eleanor looked away this time, staring down at her lap. “Well, it is an apt description of what happens when a woman is leg-shackled. You all pretend that marrying a suitable man is thebest thing that will happen to a woman short of bearing his children. I cannot see how you expect us to believe such a lie. Do you know how many brilliant women languish under the heavy thumbs of their husbands? How many perish in childbirth for their sakes? I cannot see it as anything but leading a lamb to the slaughter.”
“Women are given protection, guidance and love. They are given a family and a place to belong in exchange for the risks they must bear. How can you believe it to be a bad thing?” William snapped. “If you do, then I have failed miserably. I know you are fiercely independent, Eleanor, regrettably so! I should have been harsh with you sooner, but I could not bear to discourage you. You were such a bright child. How you can be so bright and yet still fail to see the importance of marriage, I cannot see!”
Eleanor scowled at him. “So you regret encouraging me to pursue things that I found of interest? You wish you had been harsh like most men, then?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “If I had, then perhaps you would have already been married to a man who could take care of you when I’m gone.”
Shaking her head, she sat back with a bitter laugh. “You will be around for years. This obsession with marrying me off to whomever you choose is only out of your desire to be rid of me. I feel nothing but pity for this poor bride. Dukes are all the same, it seems. Proud, self-obsessed and entirely too demanding for their own good.”
“Is that what you think of your Duke of Richmond?”
Staring at him wide-eyed, she struggled to find the words, fists clenched in her lap. “He is notmyDuke of Richmond, Father.”
“He could be if you only say the word. I think he might fancy you.”
He is unbelievable! I have told him repeatedly my opinion about marriage, and now he is pushing this yet again!
“I will say no such word, even if a word from me could make it happen. I have told you again and again that I have no interest in marrying anyone, not even the Duke of Richmond.”
“So you style him the same as every other duke?”
