Chapter 9 #2
“Because I’ll not accept charity,” he interrupted gently. “You know that, Aunt Helene. I am indebted to you and Uncle Algernon for the generosity of heart and spirit you have shown my sisters and me over the years, but I cannot accept anything else from you. To do so would be a shameful breach.”
Aunt Helene and Uncle Algernon had no living children of their own, but they had taken Lion and his sisters under their collective wing. He would sooner eat his boot than presume upon their relationship. The paintings had fetched handsome sums from wealthy collectors in their own right.
“At least securing an alliance with a wealthy heiress will keep you from having to sell any of the others,” Aunt Helene said mournfully.
He loved his aunt dearly, but Lion did not care for the way she was framing his impending nuptials to Addy.
“You should know that Miss Fox’s fortune is not the reason I intend to ask for her hand,” he cautioned. “Over the course of her stay here, I have become quite fond of her.”
“Quite fond?” Aunt Helene prodded slyly.
He sighed. “I have fallen in love with her, if you must know.”
There. He had said it aloud. The sentiment that had been growing inside him, at first a small seed that had taken root and burst into a full bloom, would not be contained. Nor could he continue to pretend as if his heart didn’t beat for the most maddening woman he had ever known.
“You’re in love with Miss Fox,” Aunt Helene repeated, her smile blinding.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t explain it if I tried.
We are opposites in so many ways—she is sunshine to my darkness, the summer to my winter, loud when I am quiet, bold and brazen and stubborn and determined and intelligent and ridiculous and…
right for me. Somehow, in a way I cannot begin to comprehend, she is right for me.
” He paused, sighing. “All I need to do is convince her to marry me.”
“That should be easy,” Aunt Helene reassured him. “You are the Duke of Marchingham. Any lady in England would be thrilled to take her place.”
Her confidence in him pleased Lion. But if she had only witnessed the debacle he had made with Addy several nights before, he had no doubt that her opinion might have been a different one.
Still, he could hardly explain to his aunt that he had deflowered Addy in his bed then hopelessly mangled his attempt at offering for her.
So he gave her a tight smile instead. “Thank you, Aunt Helene. Your faith in me is greatly appreciated.”
He could only hope that her belief was not misplaced.
Addy hastened to her room, her eyes so blurred by tears she could scarcely find her way through the sprawling manor house. Somehow, she managed to make it to the private sanctity of the chamber, closing the door at her back before she began to weep.
Dandy, who had been sleeping on the bed, leapt off at once and raced to her with a little bark as if to ask what was wrong. Sniffling, Addy bent down to pat her beloved companion’s silken head.
“Oh, Dandy,” she whispered. “Everything is wrong.”
Dandy licked her hand, offering comfort.
What a fool she was.
She had fallen in love with a man who not only didn’t return her feelings, but who wanted to marry her only for the fortune she could bring him.
Two whole days of holding her head high, pretending as if her heart didn’t beat for him, as if her breath didn’t catch and heat didn’t lick through her veins each time she inhabited the same room as him.
Two days of waiting and hoping that he might approach her and give her a reason to stay on at Marchingham Hall after Christmas.
And in the end, she had learned of his intention to propose marriage in the cruelest possible way.
With a sob, Addy marched to the linen press as Dandy trailed after her, throwing it open and unceremoniously hauling all the garments that had been placed within yet again after she and Aunt Pearl had decided to stay on at Marchingham Hall for Christmas.
There was no chance of that now.
She could not possibly bear to remain beneath the same roof as Marchingham for another night. She would have to give Letty and Lila their gifts before she went. Addy dashed at the scalding tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Lady Hargrove’s voice had carried to Addy when she had innocently approached his study door, intending to have an audience with him after being unable to find him alone for the past two days.
Marrying her shall solve all your financial problems.
Addy had halted at the threshold, wondering if Lion had a betrothed and he had neglected to inform her.
Then his voice had come, deep and sure.
Yes. It will.
An American heiress is precisely what you need, Lady Hargrove had said.
Addy’s heart had fallen, her chest seizing as she’d realized they were speaking about her. That Lion, the man who had kissed her so ardently, touched her so reverently, had only done so because of who she was and not because he had wanted her.
Everything had been a lie.
It is long past time that the leaking roof is repaired and the threadbare Axminster is taken away, he had said conversationally, as if he and his aunt were discussing nothing of greater significance than what was to be had for breakfast in the morning.
Meanwhile, her heart had been quietly shattering into a thousand pieces.
Lady Hargrove had carried on in her no-nonsense fashion while Addy’s stomach had churned, making a list of all the repairs that could be made and the new servants to be brought on.
Addy hadn’t been able to bear another second.
She had rushed away, not caring if anyone heard or saw her.
Not caring about anyone or anything, trapped in the vicious maw of betrayal.
She ought to have known.
She was no stranger to fortune hunters.
All around her had been the signs that Marchingham Hall was failing, that Lion was in desperate need of funds.
Threadbare carpet, missing pictures, few servants, simple fare at the table, overgrown gardens.
Letty and Lila themselves had recently been lamenting the lack of pin money their brother had granted them, of the necessity for reworking their gowns from previous seasons so that they weren’t outmoded.
And what had Addy done? She had served herself to him on a silver platter, chasing after him like a brazen strumpet. Giving herself to him.
Had his lovemaking been a lie as well?
Dear God, how utterly mortifying.
Another sob tore from her. Dandy pawed at her skirts and whined, agitated by Addy’s distress. Addy bent and scooped up her beloved little dog. Dandy promptly licked her cheek, cleaning her tears.
Addy Fox was the world’s greatest idiot. But somehow, she had discovered the Duke of Marchingham’s game before it was too late.
She knew what she had to do.
“You’re leaving?” Lila asked, incredulous.
“The day before Christmas?” Letty added, aghast. “But Addy, you simply can’t. We’ve only just arrived.”
They had gathered around the hearth in Lila’s bedroom, which had become their meeting place of the past few days. Lila’s room was more spacious and had three chairs drawn round the cozy fireplace, along with windows that received a great deal of sunshine.
“I’m afraid I must,” Addy said, struggling to maintain her flagging composure. “My father sent word from New York City that I am to return home at once.”
It was a convenient falsehood.
She’d received no such summons. But lying to her friends felt so much easier than confessing the sordid truth, which was that she had thrown herself at their brother, given herself to him, and had subsequently discovered he intended to marry her to save his estate from ruin.
Not because he cared for her. Not because he couldn’t bear to live without her.
No, because she was an heiress, and like so many impoverished aristocrats, Lion needed the lifeblood of her dowry to revive his dying ancestral lands. Had he been relieved when she had arrived at his bedroom that night? Or had he been horrified by her lack of propriety? Likely, a blend of both.
To her everlasting humiliation, she would never know the answer for certain.
“Has something happened?” Lila queried.
Addy’s cheeks went hot, guilt making her spine straighten. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because your father has summoned you home,” Lila explained. “Surely there would be a reason for it. He knew you intended to spend Christmas here, did he not?”
She blinked. Lila was not speaking about Lion. Of course she hadn’t been.
“All is well,” she managed shakily. “My father…misses me. And so does my fiancé.”
The moment the lie emerged from her, Addy wished she could recall it. Likely, it was her wounded pride and her guilty conscience mingling together, making her blurt nonsense. But she needed a reason to retreat to York at once. And inventing a fiancé seemed a reasonable enough one.
“You’re betrothed?” Lila and Letty demanded as one.
“Why didn’t you say so before now?” Letty demanded.
“You never spoke a word about an engagement in any of your letters,” Lila added.
Addy licked her lips. “It was meant to be a secret. We aren’t going to announce it until our engagement ball. But my fiancé has…fallen from a horse and broken his leg. I’ll need to return and help tend to him.”
“Good heavens, he’s broken his leg?” Letty shook her head. “How dreadful. Of course you must return to him.”
“What is his name?” Lila asked.
Drat.
“George,” she blurted. “Mr. George…Smith.”
“I’ve never heard of the Smiths from New York,” Lila said. “Is he from a good family?”
Addy’s stomach swirled. “Yes, of course.”
“Are you in love?” Letty demanded.
She thought of Lion and closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to keep her tears at bay. “I am, yes.”
Lila was looking at her closely when she opened them again, her regard intent. “Why didn’t you tell us before now? You must know we would guard your secrets with our very lives.”
“I’ve had such a wonderful time with you both that it slipped my mind,” she said.
Only half of that statement was a lie. She had enjoyed visiting with her dearest friends. For two extraordinary days, it had been as if no time had passed since they had parted ways at the Académie Clairemont.
“We’ve had a marvelous time with you as well,” Lila said, laying a hand on Addy’s arm. “I hate for you to leave so soon. If we had known you were here…”
“It is my own foolish fault for trying to surprise you without making certain you would be at Marchingham Hall,” Addy reassured her friend, guilt still curdling her stomach. “But it would be remiss for me to leave without giving you your Christmas gifts first.”
She scooped up the small parcels she had brought with her from New York City and offered one to each sister.
“Gifts! But we haven’t a gift for you,” Letty protested.
There was only one gift Addy wanted, and it was the gift of having her broken heart healed.
But she couldn’t say that. It was imperative that she forget all about Lion.
If she told her friends what had happened, they would likely be angry with their brother on her behalf, and she couldn’t bring herself to be the cause of a familial rift. The three siblings needed one another.
“Nonsense,” she said, forcing a smile. “Open them, if you please.”
Her friends did so in unison, each one gasping as she lifted the earrings from their box. Sapphires for Letty and emeralds for Lila.
“To match each of your eyes,” she explained. “These are from my favorite jeweler in New York City.”
“My heavens, these are far too dear,” Lila objected.
“They must have cost a small fortune,” Letty added in awe.
They were hardly extravagant, given Papa’s means. But she felt a bit ashamed by her family’s wealth now that she had witnessed the state of Marchingham Hall and had overheard the dire straits in which Lion—and consequently Letty and Lila—found themselves.
“I wished for a lasting gift,” she said simply, “so that you could look upon them and think of your friend back in America.”
“As if we could ever forget you,” Lila said, tears swimming in her green eyes.
“Les Trois Mousquetaires,” Letty added on a half sob.
Pain shot through Addy. She would miss her friends. Nothing about her surprise Christmas jaunt to Yorkshire had unfolded as she had planned. She hadn’t intended for a snowstorm or for her friends to be absent or to fall in love with Lion. But all of those things had happened.
And now, she needed to do whatever she had to so that she could protect what remained of her broken heart.