Chapter 7
Dorothy’s advice had been sound, but when Bridget woke the next morning, she laid in her bed for nearly an hour before accepting defeat. No dashing knight was coming to rescue her from a loveless marriage to the Duke of Wheelton.
The Duke of Boredom and Stony Expressions.
“Are you unwell, my lady?” asked Amelia, Bridget’s lady’s maid.
“I suffer…” She sighed dramatically. “From a broken heart,” Bridget said. “My brother is conspiring to see me married to a monstrous man.”
Maybe monstrous was unfair. It was not as though her groom-to-be was a demon or deformed or even unattractive.
“Oh my!”
“Obnoxious,” Bridget amended, sitting upright in her bed. “Distasteful and horrid. I have seen statues with more depth of feeling than this man seems to possess.”
And yet she could not deny how she had reacted to that man, who she had just accused of having no depth. Bridget’s whole body warmed with the memory of his touch and the dark promise that she found in his eyes. She had thought him alluring even when he behaved in ways that should repulse her.
Bridget wanted to tell herself that she hated how confident he was, but a small part of her had been intrigued by him. How could a man be so utterly self-assured? He was as bold as Sir Lancelot with none of the knight’s gallantry.
Amelia’s eyes were soft with sympathy. “I am so sorry, my lady!”
“Yes,” Bridget said, sighing. “I wanted to be the heroine of a grand romance, but I suppose I will have to settle for a tragedy.”
She imagined herself twenty years in the future, stern-faced and cold, miserable in her marriage with the Duke of Wheelton. It was not an appealing image. Bridget could not even imagine a little romance in it. She was not some tragic heroine like Ophelia. She was just…
Unhappy and unwanted.
“But you have only just met the man,” Amelia said. “Maybe affection will still grow between you, my lady.”
“Only if he is slain in some terrible accident and a kinder, more attractive relative elects to marry me in his stead.”
Amelia looked appalled. “What a…colorful imagination you have, my lady.”
“So I have heard,” Bridget said, clambering from her bed. “I suppose I might as well dress. Do not make me look too pretty. If I look exhausted and wretched, maybe I can make Elias relent.”
She doubted it. The more Bridget thought about it, the more she realized that His Grace’s proposal would be her best shield from disgrace. It was likely that Elias had come to the same conclusion during the night.
“As you wish, my lady,” Amelia said. “However, I fear that you are already so full of natural beauty that you will never look truly wretched.”
Bridget sighed, resigned to her fate. She dressed in a pale pink gown, complemented by the delicate blossoms that Amelia put in her hair. No cosmetics were applied, but Bridget looked lovely regardless.
And to think that I have always been so proud of my beauty!
That same beauty which had once made her the envy of the Season now felt as though it was some cruel, cosmic joke. What good had her beauty done her in the end? None at all.
She was not even certain that her husband cared or noticed she was beautiful. He had made no mention of her appearance at all. Bridget was lost in thoughts of Lewis, as she walked into the dining hall.
“Good morning.” As she entered, Elias stood from his place at the head of the table. “I am glad that you were willing to join me.”
Bridget did not smile. His Grace’s proposal lingered unspoken in the air between them, like the calm before the storm.
She suspected that Elias felt guilty about what had happened, and he was desperate to make amends.
Was he desperate enough to refuse the Duke of Wheelton’s proposal?
Likely not. But it was worth trying to convince him, at least.
“Elias,” she said.
He gestured to the seat at his right. It would be only the two of them at breakfast. After His Grace’s visit, Elias had returned to the family townhouse.
Bridget had elected to join him, so Dorothy and her husband might have some time to themselves.
That meant it was only the two of them at breakfast.
On one hand, that meant no one else would be vying for Elias’s attention. No one would be able to argue against Bridget, except for him. On the other hand, it meant that Bridget had no allies. That was unfortunate, for she suspected that Gerard would be easily coaxed into agreeing with her.
Elias stirred sugar into his tea and smiled. If she had not known him so well, Bridget would have thought he was sincerely happy. He lifted his cup and sipped from it, as though there was nothing wrong in the world.
“I do not want to marry him,” Bridget said without preamble.
Her brother coughed, evidently so startled by her brazenness that he had nearly choked on his own tea. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “I fear that you may have no choice in the matter.”
“I do have a choice,” Bridget said. “You may say no, and that will be the end of it.”
Elias sighed, as the staff brought them their breakfast—fluffy eggs, roasted potatoes, toast, jams, and delectable fruits—all of which only turned Bridget’s stomach. How could she eat when she knew what dinner might bring?
“Bridget, I know that you want me to refuse Wheelton’s proposal, and I want to.”
“Then, do it!”
Elias evidently had no qualms with eating, for he promptly shoveled a substantial serving of the eggs into his mouth. “I cannot,” he said, once he had finished chewing. “His proposal is generous.”
Bridget clenched her jaw.
“We cannot refuse him in the hope of getting something better,” Elias continued. “Because I do not foresee any other man being willing to marry you. We have an offer after two scandals. We would be foolish not to accept it.”
“Would we?” Bridget asked. “I do not recall your forcing Cat to marry anyone.”
“She volunteered,” Elias said. “If she had not agreed to marry Sarsen, Dorothy would have. But your sister is a good example—happily married.”
Bridget shook her head. “You have mentioned that twice now, and I am still not persuaded. If anything, my sister’s success makes mine less likely!
Love-matches are rare enough in the world, much less ones that grow from marriages of convenience.
The chances of two sisters in the same family both marrying for convenience and finding love is impossible. ”
“I was unaware that you were so well-verse in math, Bridget,” Elias said lightly. “You ought to visit the tables more often.”
“If I do, I will make you lose your entire fortune out of spite!” Bridget cried. “You would deserve nothing less for making me marry that awful man!”
“I believe that you can do it, too,” Elias said, giving her a cheerful smile. “If Cat managed to find love, you can.”
She shook her head.
“Your sisters are married, though,” Elias continued. “You are the last one.”
“You are not married,” she countered.
“I am different. I have the Dukedom to think of.”
Bridget pressed her lips into a thin line. For a long time, she and her brother simply stared at one another. Elias resumed eating.
After a heartbeat, Bridget seized a piece of toast and bit into it in what she hoped was a sufficiently spiteful manner.
Once, Elias would not have accepted this.
He would have let her become a spinster.
Once, that had been Dorothy’s dream, and he had agreed to it.
Why did he have to be the responsible brother now?
Maybe he had changed after seeing two sisters succeed so thoroughly on the marriage mart.
“I love you,” Elias said softly. “I hope you know that.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. A pressure built behind Bridget’s eyes; it was the familiar sensation of gathering tears. Her chest hurt, and her face warmed. She could not bring herself to say that she doubted his love.
“I know.” Bridget paused. “And I love you, too. Even now.”
“Even now,” he echoed. “Bridget, I am sorry that your Seasons have not gone as you planned. I wish that they had.”
She sniffled a little.
“If I had any reservations about Wheelton, I would tell you of them. But from what I know, he is a respectable man,” Elias said.
“A little distant. Some would say that he is cold, but that does not mean the marriage will be a dismal affair. At worst, I imagine he will want you to live separate lives, and you will have your freedom, at least.”
Bridget laughed, so she would not cry. “Wonderful, Elias. I can spend all my days alone, reading novels about women who marry for love and have happy existences, while I languish in my misery.”
“Or you may make your own happiness,” Elias said. “There is more to live for than love, my dearest.”
Bridget grimaced. “How would you know? You have never been in love.”
“Neither have you.”
Bridget inhaled sharply, hissing between her teeth. “I might fall in love if given the chance, but you will deny me even that.”
Elias sighed. “I know you do not wish to hear any of this, but if you marry Wheelton, he will take care of you, if nothing else. He has already proven himself to be a better man by accepting the consequences of his actions and working to repair your reputation.”
“You mean by repairing his own and finding a duchess,” Bridget said. “His proposal, if you accept it, might absolve my previous actions, but I doubt he is thinking of me at all.”
“Does it matter? The result works in your favor regardless.”
Bridget took a sip of mint tea, trying vainly to calm her lurching stomach. “It matters, and you know it does.”
“I cannot justify refusing him, Bridget. Even if I wanted to.”
“I thought as much.”
Elias frowned. “Then, why have we quarreled over the matter?”
“Because I hoped that you would see reason,” Bridget said. “But you have not. That is fine.”
“Fine.”
“You sound as though you do not believe me.”
“Because I do not believe you,” Elias said. “Bridget, whatever you may be thinking…it will not work. Do not behave drastically in the hopes of escaping this.”
“I would not dream of that,” Bridget said. “What do you even imagine that I would do? Flee to the countryside under the cover of night? Become a governess without your permission?”
Elias cast his eyes upward, as though seeking patience from the divine. “Please, I beg of you...”
“No begging is necessary,” Bridget said. “I will accept my fate. I see that it is the only feasible way forward.”
That was a lie, of course. If Elias would not decline the Duke’s proposal, there was only one available course of action. Bridget would have to force His Grace into withdrawing his offer. She did not understand the Duke’s behavior, but she did know that he desired a special wife.
When His Grace came to dinner, Bridget would simply prove that she was not a suitable wife. She would show that man all the worst parts of herself, and she would be so utterly frustrating that he was forced to withdraw his proposal.
She had no notion of how she would survive after that, having two scandals to her name, but that would be a problem for later. At the moment, her only task was to make that man regret ever offering his hand in marriage.