The screaming mimi v4, p.16
An Inconvenient Marriage: Regency Historical Romance (All for Love Book 1), page 16
“I understand, sir. It has all transpired rather quickly.”
“Indeed.” The vicar took a sip of his sherry and cleared his throat. “In addition to your letter, I have received communication from my aunt’s solicitor regarding the settlements. The settlements are far more generous than I anticipated.”
“It turns out that the amounts were tied to the degree of Sarah’s husband’s title, and I’m a duke. Short of a royal prince there isn’t a higher degree, therefore the maximum amounts have been settled on your family, Lady Holbrook, and Sarah, or they will be once the marriage is deemed legally binding. At that time, I will, as Sarah’s husband, also receive access to the remaining principal and income from the estate.”
“Hence the rapidity with which this process is being put into effect.”
Robert winced internally but simply nodded. What could he say?
“Tell me, Your Grace, do you care for my daughter at all, or is it merely her fortune that you covet?” The vicar eyed him with a grim look. Easy to see where Sarah got her directness from!
“I will not pretend that her fortune wasn’t a consideration. My circumstances made it imperative that I secure a bride with a significant income. However, I had a choice, and I chose Sarah for a number of reasons that have nothing to do with her fortune.”
“Which are?” The other man leaned forward, spearing Robert with a look that reminded him strongly of Sarah.
“Unusual in someone of my station, I had always the intention to marry for love. When my circumstances forced me to consider a marriage based on more worldly grounds, I was resigned to the prospect that love might not be an option.” He paused and took a sip of the sherry, looking down at the dark liquid, whose color reminded him of Sarah’s eyes. He looked up again and met the vicar’s gaze firmly. “I have, however, on becoming better acquainted with Sarah, formed the opinion that it is not impossible that we might find felicity in each other’s company. I do most sincerely esteem and respect her; she is an extraordinary young woman, and I will be proud to call her my duchess.”
The older man regarded him in silence for a moment, appearing to deliberate on what he had said. The vicar inclined his head.
“Thank you for your honesty, Your Grace.”
“Please call me Robert. I do not wish to stand upon ceremony with you. I can assure you that Sarah will meet with only kindness in my house. My family already like her and are prepared to welcome her with open arms. Her comfort and happiness will be my highest priority.”
The sound of a bell ringing made the vicar rise. “Supper is ready. Again, I thank you for your honesty, Robert. You have gone some way to allaying a father’s concerns, but I will speak to Sarah and ensure myself of her acquiescence to this plan for her future.”
Robert bowed and opened the door for his prospective father-in-law, his heart sinking a little. While he and Sarah had achieved a better accord over the past two weeks than they had initially, following that disastrous event at Lady Castlereagh’s ball, he was by no means certain that she was completely reconciled to the situation.
Things had become strained between them again following Ava’s ball. He had pulled back from any further intimacy with her due to his fear of losing control of himself again, and she had seemed to withdraw also, perhaps in response. Her withdrawal gave him that by now familiar ache in his chest that seemed to afflict him almost perpetually where she was concerned. He had found the gap created was difficult to bridge. He hoped that perhaps here, or once they were home at The Castle, he could begin to repair the damage.
There was also the matter of her feelings for Lannister. As much as he tried to tell himself that she couldn’t possibly entertain any, he couldn’t rid himself of the fear of it, which also left him with a sick feeling in his stomach and it made him uncertain in approaching her on the subject. If he were really honest with himself, he didn’t want to find out if it was true. Every time he thought of it, he suffered an internal flinch.
What he did know was that they had a powerful physical connection, which he was constrained from pursuing for fear of overstepping the bounds of propriety and frightening her. That she was exceptionally innocent, he had no doubt, which roused protective instincts in him and also made him uncomfortable about his own level of passion toward her. He couldn’t touch her without entertaining lewd thoughts, her very scent aroused him, the aching longing to take her in his arms and devour her with kisses was a constant desire.
And to make matters worse, he still had no real idea of how she felt about him, Lannister aside. If she told her father that she wasn’t a willing party to this marriage, would he encourage her to break off the engagement, despite the social risks to the family and the financial costs? Watson was not materially driven any more than Sarah was. Robert could see he was idealistic enough to sacrifice his family’s material wealth for Sarah’s happiness.
Chapter Seventeen
For Sarah, to be home again was bittersweet and made her heart ache. She was happy and sad at the same time. She had missed them so, and to know that she could no longer call this house her home sent a pang through her that robbed her of breath.
Her initial fury with both the duke and Daphne had been tempered by discussions with each one. It had been born in upon her that her assumption that the duke was complicit with Daphne in entrapping her was likely not the case. According to his family, he wasn’t even capable of that kind of duplicity. That Daphne was, and for such mercenary purposes, still galled her.
Daphne’s revelations about the existence of the duke’s mistress and her realization that his intention all along was to offer her a marriage of convenience—now that she understood what that meant—had put a different complexion on things again. If Daphne was to be believed, the duke’s physical attraction to her was nothing more than a normal male response to an available female for whom he felt a certain degree of physical attraction. It did not denote burgeoning feelings for her.
In short, he didn’t love her and likely never would. He would treat her with courtesy and respect, kindness even. But he would not love her. She did not resemble the mythical, ideal woman of his dreams. He had quite bluntly told her so. She was not restful, sweet-tempered, and gentle.
“Are you happy, Sesi?” asked Ruth, breaking in on her dark thoughts. Her sisters had conducted Daphne to another room to refresh herself from the journey and rejoined her in her own room.
Deb perched on the bed and regarded her with a frown. “You don’t look happy.”
Sarah wrung out the cloth she was using to wipe her face and pushed down her instinct to confide in her sisters. They stood to benefit from this marriage significantly, and what was done was done, after all. She couldn’t change it now; her fate was sealed. So she said as brightly as she could manage, “I am happy. It is wonderful to be home, I am just a little fatigued from the journey.”
“Well, he’s very handsome,” allowed Ruth.
Sarah smiled perfunctorily. Yes, he is.
“Does he treat you kindly?” asked Deb, watching her like a hawk.
“Yes, he does,” she had to admit.
“Do you love him?” asked Mary from her place by the door. Mary was sixteen and romantic.
“This is a marriage of convenience, Mary. Love has nothing to do with it.” Deborah spoke firmly.
“He looks just like a storybook hero,” said Mary defiantly. “And he squeezed your hand. I saw it!”
Sarah dropped the cloth back into the water, picking up the towel to dry her face and neck. “He knew that I was happy-sad to be home. He was trying to comfort me, I think,” she admitted, surprised by the evident truth of that. He was considerate of her feelings in many ways. Now that he has what he wants . . .
“Are you sure you can go through with it?” asked Deborah, rising and seizing her arms to scan her face.
“Oh, yes,” said Sarah calmly. “His family have been very nice to me. I shall manage quite well once I become accustomed, I daresay.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, but it didn’t stem the tears that spilled over, and Deborah folded her in her arms.
“Don’t do it if it’s going to make you miserable, Sesi!” she said fiercely.
“No, it isn’t that. I shall just miss you all so much, not living here anymore!” Sarah gulped on a sob and tried to wipe her eyes as her sisters crowded round her and Mary offered her a handkerchief.
*
Supper was a boisterous affair, which Robert surmised was normal for the Watsons. Lady Holbrook seemed unperturbed. As the vicar’s cousin, she was presumably used to it. The small fry were vastly entertaining, but most of his attention was on Sarah, who was seated beside him.
The redness of her eyes told him she had been crying, and he was anxious as to the reason. Was she thinking of crying off in spite of all? Or was it an excess of sensibility at being home again? He must contrive to get her alone and seek to comfort and reassure her. The thought of her distress made his chest ache.
Following supper, however, he was frustrated by Sarah disappearing with her father. Will she tell him she doesn’t want to proceed with the wedding?
*
Papa showed her into his study and waved her to the couch. She sank down on it and he joined her, taking her hands.
“Now, Sesi, I want the truth. Are you happy? Because you don’t look it,” he said, fixing her with his familiar stare, both kind and piercing. It was too much, and despite her resolve to tell him everything was fine, she burst into tears.
“Oh, my darling girl.” He drew her close and comforted her. “There, there, sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wish to. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve missed you so, Papa!” she sobbed into his shoulder. “And I’ve been so wicked!”
“Now that I don’t believe,” he said, rubbing her back as if she were five and had scraped a knee. He fumbled in a pocket and produced a handkerchief for her as she sniffed and tried to wipe her eyes.
“It’s true!” she bawled into the handkerchief.
“Well, I’m not a Catholic priest, but I’ll listen to your litany of sins if you wish to unburden yourself, my dear.”
She sniffed, wiping her face, and blew her nose. “I have been so angry, Papa, and suspicious and unforgiving. And I’ve told lies!” she added conscientiously.
“I see. Anything else?”
“Yes, Papa,” she whispered.
He waited, and she gathered her courage and, blushing furiously, her eyes on her lap, said, “I’ve been tempted by desire.”
“Well, let us take each of those one at a time, shall we?” he said, letting go of one of her hands and tilting her chin up so she would look at him. She blinked wetly at him and nodded, sniffing.
“Firstly, what have you been angry about?”
“I was angry with Daphne and the duke. I thought he had done something to deceive me, but I’ve since learned it probably wasn’t the case. I’d rather not reveal what Daphne did, but it made me angry, and I wasn’t able to forgive her for days. In fact, I still haven’t completely.”
“I see. Well, anger is a normal emotional reaction to being wronged by others. It is not wrong to feel anger, child. It’s what you do when you’re angry that makes the sin. And to continue to nurse anger and unforgiveness indefinitely often hurts the angry person more greatly than the person it’s directed at.”
She swallowed and nodded, wiping her eyes which were still leaking. “This is why I’ve missed you, Papa—your wisdom. You always set me straight.”
“Very well, then let us take the next thing—lying. What have you lied about and to whom and, more importantly, why?”
“I led the duke to think I may have a partiality for another when I do not, because”—she looked down at this and whispered, because she felt so truly ashamed of this one—“I wanted to make him jealous just a little.”
Silence greeted this, and she eventually peeked at Papa to see what he was doing. His lips were curved in a slight smile.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked, half accusing, half baffled.
“If we were all sent to hell for that one, my dear, there would be no one in heaven.”
“Truly, Papa? But it was wrong!”
“Yes, it was wrong, my dear, but I have to ask, did it work?”
“I think so, yes,” she admitted reluctantly, remembering Robert’s show of possessiveness. Even if it was just driven by a proprietary sense within him, it still made her feel wanted and protected.
“Now we get to the serious one,” he said. “Ah, no hiding.” He nudged up her chin again. “What has he done?”
She flushed. “Nothing but kisses, Papa, I promise. The duke is very proper, and he has treated me with nothing but respect.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So what are you concerned about?”
She squirmed. Really, discussing this with a parent was so uncomfortable. “I think I understand now why girls become fallen women. Kisses feel so nice, Papa,” she admitted in a rush.
“Well, yes, they do, with the right person. If you’ve come to that realization, you can advise your sisters and warn them what to be careful of. Your mother, bless her, is not up to the task. Been worrying me terribly having you exposed to all that corruption in London and no one to advise and protect you but Daphne and your own common sense.” He smiled and hugged her.
She hugged him back and sniffled.
“Which brings me to one final question, Sesi. Do you want to marry him?” He waited a moment, and when she didn’t answer, he went on, “If you do not, you have no need to worry about what it means for the family. I won’t have you sacrificed for worldly gain. Do you want to be a duchess, Sarah?”
“Not—not especially,” she admitted.
“Well then, there is nothing more to be said.” He prepared to rise, and she grabbed his arm.
“I don’t especially wish to be a duchess, but I think I do want to marry Robert,” she said quickly. Papa didn’t know about the incident at Lady Castlereagh’s ball, and he probably wouldn’t understand the ramifications, either, of her calling off the wedding, the social ruin that would follow. For good or ill, the die was cast. She’d made her decision, and she did want to see it through, not least for her family’s sake.
And confessing some of her transgressions, if not all of them, to Papa had relieved her conscience somewhat, and just talking to him had made her feel better about everything. She really had missed him dreadfully. The prospect of being separated from him on a more or less permanent basis going forward made her heart ache, but her marriage to the duke was for the best and perhaps not as awful as she had previously thought it might be.
He smiled, and this time his eyes teared up. “My baby girl is truly grown up now. Dearest girl, I do so wish you every happiness.” He hugged her again. “I believe the duke will make you an admirable husband. He seems a fine upstanding fellow.
“I’ve done a little research on him, you know, as soon as I received his letter informing me of your betrothal. I couldn’t find anyone with a bad word to say about him. Except that he is a little formal and proud, which is to be expected of someone of his social standing. And I have to say that the little I’ve seen of him so far has shown him to be far less high in the instep than I expected.”
She smiled tearily at him and hugged him. “Thank you, Papa.” The last thing she was ever going to tell Papa was about Robert’s mistress. If he knew about that . . .
*
Sarah and the vicar were gone for a good half hour, during which time Robert made awkward conversation with Mrs. Watson, Lady Holbrook, and the two eldest girls.
He rose as soon as Sarah entered the room with her father and noted with alarm that her eyes were red. More tears! He took a step toward her but addressed Mr. Watson. “May I have a few moments alone with Sarah?”
Watson glanced at his wife, and then nodded.
“The back parlor is unoccupied,” said Mrs. Watson.
He looked at Sarah. “Will you?”
She gave him a small, painful smile and turned back toward the door. He accompanied her down the hall, noting the slightly threadbare nature of the runner. Everything was spotlessly clean, but he couldn’t help but notice the worn furnishings and scratched and battered furniture.
They entered the back parlor which was lit by a single candelabra on a side table. There was no fire, so the air was chilly, and Sarah pulled her shawl more tightly round her shoulders. He closed the door and turned to take her hands.
“You’re upset. What is it?”
“This is the last time I will live in this house; I had not expected—I shall miss it and my family.” She avoided his eyes.
“You will still see them any time you wish. You don’t think I would keep you from them, do you?”
She looked up at him, blinking in the poor light. “I don’t know. Once we are married, I don’t know what level of autonomy I will have, if any. The role of duchess is demanding. This has all happened so quickly, I am not sure of anything.” The expression of confusion in her eyes smote him in the chest.
“Sarah, I would never—” He stopped, his throat suddenly tight with emotion. “My family is very important to me, and I would have to be blind and insensitive to an extraordinary degree not to see how important yours is to you. I would never seek to separate you from them.”
She lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”
He nudged her chin up with a finger so she would look at him. “Why would you think I would do such a thing?”
She shook her head, her throat working and the ready tears spilling over.
“Oh, Sarah!” He gathered her into his embrace and held her close, his cheek resting against her hair. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but surely we can do better than this? I hate to see you so upset, especially if I am the cause. Tell me what I can do to rectify it.”
“N-nothing!” She wiped her eyes. “I just didn’t understand why you stayed away from me at Ava’s ball after—after—” She flushed.
“Ah!” Comprehension dawned on him, and he flushed, too. “You’re too much temptation, Sarah, and I was afraid I had frightened you,” he confessed.
